Chrono Trigger: The Shadows of the Past
by AJ Andreason
Summary: Two years post-Lavos. The day of Crono and Nadia's wedding approches, but trouble is still lurking. As war and strife erupt around him, Crono finds he must face something he never though he would. His father.
1. Prologue

**Chrono Trigger**

**The Shadows of the Past**

**Prologue**

Marge stared out the window, seeing the first streaks of dawn peering over the mountains, bringing with it the promise of a beautiful new day. She sat quietly on her old chair, the one she had grown to love over the years. It had been so long since loving hands had built its solid structure, carved it with slow care, and made it so elegant in every detail. It had been built specifically for her, its every carving meant to remind her of all she thought was beautiful. It remained one of her most prized worldly possessions to this day. But Marge was a woman of calm, levelheaded resolve, and she was not usually so sentimental. However, this was different. 

She had never told Crono about how she had gotten it. Every time he began to ask, she deftly changed the subject, averting her eyes so that he could not see the pain in them. She honestly didn't know how she had kept it from him for so long. He wasn't a slow child—he never had been. Maybe that's why he never asked. Maybe he had guessed the truth, but thought it would be too painful for her to relate it. He might have been right. 

Marge wasn't sure. Her son had changed much since his journey through time (which she had a little experience with herself) but she knew that despite all that had changed, he still remained very much who he was. The quiet, smiling, morning-hating, food-scarfing, competitive person he had always been. And now he had grown up. It hardly seemed two years since Crono first took off on his adventure, but the time had passed, and it seemed all too quickly for Marge. For by the end of the week, he was going to marry a Princess of Guardia. 

Though Marge thought 18 was still a little young, he had made his decision, and with the king's approval already given, there was no point in trying to sway him. And besides, she had married little later than that age herself, and she could not see a better match for her son than Nadia. With her courage, strong will, and happy personality, Marge would gladly have the princess for a daughter-in-law. Her son becoming Prince Regent wasn't half bad either. 

But it was these thoughts that had led her to go and sit in the old chair, to think on what should be done. Still she wondered; should she tell him? Should he learn what she had been trying to hide from him almost ever since he was born? She cleared her thoughts. Marge knew she had to tell Crono; she'd known it for a long time. And the time was right. It must be now. 

She looked down again at the old chair, fashioned by the love of her life, her husband. Marge never ceased to be amazed at how much her son resembled his father. The spiky red hair, the solid arched eyebrows, the mischievous grin that told her he was in trouble again. How, when matters became serious, both father and son would take command, and fight for what they thought was right, no matter the personal risk. 

That was it. Marge had decided. Before the sun set on the day before his wedding, she would tell all. She would tell the sad story of her lost love, of how he never got to raise the son that bore his face. She only hoped he would forgive her for having waited for so long. She could only hope she could be reconciled with the shadows of the past. 


	2. Chapter I: Déjà vu

****

Chapter I   
**_Déjà vu_**

It was sunrise. The first streaks of daylight trickled through the thick curtains, intruding upon Crono's dark room. But unaware of the bright beams, Crono slept on; one of his favorite past times. After all, a little sunlight couldn't wake him up. But then, in the distance, there was the faint but clear tone of a single bell, ringing out its sweet music to the surrounding village of Truce. At this Crono stirred, but stubbornly refused to wake up. He would sleep on. But then a voice interrupted his plans. 

"Crono!" 

He groaned silently, and rolled over, pretending not to have heard. But deep inside, he knew it wouldn't help. 

"_Crono_!" the familiar voice came again, his mother performing what seemed to be a daily ritual. Couldn't he sleep in peace without bells ringing and people shouting at him?

"Good Morning, Crono!" came another call, getting closer. Then the bell rang again, louder this time. Crono opened his eyes suddenly, the sound of the bell still ringing in his ears. That hadn't sounded like Nadia's bell at all; it sounded more like the old Leene's bell that had been taken down and put in glass at the castle. He listened intently to the next ring of the bell, and the haunting sound of Leene's bell came back to him once more. Startled, he sat up. He hadn't imagined it after all. 

Then, the door opened suddenly, making Crono jump, and almost making him fall out of bed. The thoughts of the bell went spinning out of his mind. In strode his mother. Judging by the determined look on her face, she was prepared to do battle. She seemed very surprised indeed to see him wide awake—that is, without having to hit him or splash cold water on him. She smiled, looking very pleased. "Well, this has definitely got to be a record. The first time you've been awake this early in the morning other than when you're in mortal danger." He let that pass. 

She strode across the room and opened the curtains to reveal the bright sunlight. "Ah," She sighed. "Doesn't Nadia's bell sound lovely in the morning?"

Suddenly, he remembered how the bell had sounded earlier.

"Mom," he said, "Did the bell sound a little odd to you just now? More like Leene's bell?" 

She stared at him. "Why, no, it sounded fine to me," she said as the bell rang again, this time in the way it usually did. "See, there's proof there. You must just have been dreaming." She smiled at him, a slightly distant look in her eyes. "Probably having a little déjà vu, thinking back to the morning of the Millennial Fair…"

Crono shook his head, but didn't say anything. He was sure he had been wide awake when he had heard it, and even if he hadn't been, how could he have been mistaken twice? Oh, no, wait a second. He could have dreamt it twice, but it didn't matter. He was certain he had been awake. It didn't bode well with him. He remembered a theory Lucca had once told him about déjà vu. How it could sometimes tell of something in the future as well as feel similar to something that happened in the past. It was a bad omen.

"Anyway," his mother continued, determining by his silence that the conversation was dropped, "You're suppose to meet with Nadia to talk about wedding arrangements at the castle. Oh, and also to get fitted for your robes. Hurry, she's not a patient woman," 

Even as she mentioned wedding plans, he quickly threw off his shirt and replaced it with a clean one, and was already tugging on his boots when all her words sunk in, and he stopped dead. He scowled sullenly at the floor. He thought he had headed off having to wear any garish robes early on, but apparently Nadia didn't think so. Mentally readying himself for being as stubborn as he possibly could (something that Nadia was very good at), he finished tugging on his boots, and stomped them into place. He tied his old orange scarf around his neck, then firmly knotted his white bandana around his forehead, it's familiar feel comforting him somewhat. 

He ran down the stairs, finally ready to go, but his mother's call stopped him. "Aren't you going to have some breakfast?" 

He shook his head. "Nah, thanks mom. I'll just get some at the castle."

Again, he was about to leave when his mother said, "Oh! I almost forgot! Here's your allowance." She handed him about 200 gold. He smiled. He had forgotten to tell his mom how much money he had made on his journey through time. But his smile was short lived, for the feeling of déjà vu was almost overwhelming. With a muttered thanks, he started for the door, but halted just before it to stare at the wall. There hung the Rainbow Sword, where it had hung in honor for almost two years. It glittered faintly in the morning light, the plain handle polished and fine. 

Quickly, he snatched it off the wall and belted it on. Without another word, he hurried off toward the castle, leaving his mother more than a little worried. He ran on without looking back, his thoughts troubled.

A bad omen indeed.

Lucca Ashtear frowned in concentration, pushing a strand of lavender hair back behind one ear. This was the most delicate part, and if she messed up now, it would take her weeks to re-modify things. Her gaze shifted slowly over the crystals and microchips, making sure all was in place. And then, with the utmost care, she connected the final three wires to the main crystals. There: it was done. She heaved a sigh of relief. The period of greatest risk over; now, it was time for the testing.

She hoped she had just made the final adjustments to a project she had been working on for nearly a year. It was something that seemed simple, really, but was much harder than it appeared. She had been trying to devise a machine that would make itself and anything around it invisible. It hadn't been very tough at first, the actual going invisible part, that is. But then, she ran into trouble. At first, Lucca's invention simply made _itself_ invisible, which hadn't helped her at all in fixing the problem. Then, it took so much power output that it drained all her batteries (which were rechargeable, but hard to come by in the year 1002 A.D.) in less than an hour with minor use. Then, when Lucca fixed it by using a crystal that turns light into energy, she accidentally turned everything within three hundred yards of her house invisible for almost two days. Which, of course, made her parents quite distraught—especially her mother. She nearly became ill from feeling like a disembodied pair of eyes, not to mention bumping into everything that had turned invisible. Lucca often wished her mother was a bit more scientific, like her father. Then again, her father never got out either.

Finally, through a lot of firsthand experimentation, (which left bruises on her for several days) she got the right balance. Along the way, she even found out how to make it powerable by magic as well, with a bit of Nadia's help. Gentle magic was more Nadia's territory, and Lucca thought that if she had tried it on her own, she would more likely have burnt her house to a crisp than improved her unique device. But now, it was ready to be tested for use—to make her invisible, objects nearby invisible, and also large objects, like say–a house. Or a time machine…

The thought of Epoch made Lucca turn to regard the Wings of Time. She knew she had said she would dissemble it, but she just didn't have the heart. It's complicated and ingenious design still intrigued her, for she was not yet able to duplicate the warp engine. Yes, Belthazar had been (or was and will be) a brilliant scientist. His ingenuity never ceased to amaze Lucca as she continued to examine it. So, Lucca would always put off taking it apart for another day, hoping that she wasn't too obvious. She had been doing that for two years now, and she'd probably be doing it until the moon fell out of the sky. 

She shook her head, waking up from her trance, and got back to the task on hand. She went over to her notebook and began to write. 

May 2, 1002 

I am continuing my experimentation on the light bending effects of my latest invention, the Shifter. I will conduct several experiments pertaining to the working status, range, power, and accuracy of the apparatus. 

Test one: Acute consummation of self-invisibility. I will attempt to configure the Shifter to make only myself and the things on my person invisible, followed by making only certain parts invisible, while other parts remain visible. 

Lucca considered the last part of the second sentence for a moment. She shrugged. It may sound a bit risqué, but it would have to do. Abruptly, she giggled, wondering if she could get people's clothes to disappear. She had seen this really handsome boy the other day in Truce, and she wondered what he would…Stop it, she told herself firmly. You've got to get back on task. Trying not to imagine the look on the poor guy's face, she went back to her invention.

The Shifter looked very much like a metal-plated suitcase, all covered in hard, light metal to keep the delicate parts inside from being smashed. She quietly slid it closed, latched the steel panel on the backside, and turned it right side up. After messing with some of the dials and knobs to get the specifications just how she wanted them, she quickly checked over the instruments to see that all was ready. Then, she activated it.

It emitted a quiet tinkling sound, unlike most of Lucca's inventions, (which generally made a great deal of noise), and it caused a slight shift in the air, almost like heat waves. Then abruptly, it stopped. Lucca stared at it for a moment. Every swearword she'd ever heard sprang into her mind, and she slammed her fist down violently on the hard metal. She had been sure it would work! How could it possibly have just—

Then, as suddenly as it stopped, it started up again. The tinkling noise grew louder for a moment, then was replaced by a soft humming sound. And then, with a wink, Lucca disappeared. Her anger turned to satisfaction in the blink of an eye. She turned off the machine. She went and looked into the mirror, and nearly jumped up and down with glee. The effect was perfect. She smiled smugly to herself (because, after all, no one could see it) and for a moment considered scaring her parents. Nah; she didn't want to give her mother a heart attack.

So far, test one was a success. If her data was correct, she should stay that way for about 2 hours. After that she would see if she could get smaller parts of her invisible, like arms or hair. But in the meantime, she could continue with test two; hiding nearby objects. With the Shifter in one hand and a sandwich in the other, she set off for Truce. Oh, this was going to be a fun day indeed.

***

A chill wind swept the snow-covered hills of North Cape, it's icy fingers stretching forward to whip the barren wasteland. And beyond the hills lay a huge mountain range, with jagged, rocky slopes and sheer sides, and boulders worn smooth by centuries of the relentless pounding of the wind-blown snow, giving the impression it had incurred the wrath of some God or demon upon it. On the peak of one of those jagged behemoths stood a lone figure. His black cloak swirled around him in the gale, but the cold did not touch him. His pale face and fine features belied the sheer strength within him, and his pointed ears gave him a somewhat elven look. His dark blue hair waved slightly beneath his hood, and his black leather gloves and leather clothing stood out against the snow. In little less than 12,600 years, he would be the most feared tyrant the world had ever seen. He, was the Magus.

He smiled bitterly at the desolate landscape, the place that he had once called home. Now, the power of the Kingdom of Zeal was shattered, leaving the "Earthbound" and "Enlightened" ones to strive together to survive, and throwing the only one he had ever cared for into some distant place or time just beyond reach. Oh, the irony of the world. The ones that thought themselves above all were thrown into the dirt with the rest to struggle, and the man who thought he could do anything stood helpless to gain the thing which he desired above all others. After exacting his revenge with the help of his allies on his most hated enemy, the alien Lavos, he only had one goal in life. He must find Schala.

Two years he had searched for his sister. Two years of scouring every inch of earth from the mountains on which he stood to the far side of the world, and to no avail. He had even gone into the deep waters of the sea to gaze upon the wreck of the Ocean Palace, had searched it in every possible way, had even blasted parts of it off in order to see more clearly. And all his efforts were wasted. Schala was yet to be found, and he had run out of options. All options, that is, except one.

He had come to the realization some months ago, but had to be sure. Now he was. He must travel time to find her. It was the only way. And he was going to go tonight.

In the weeks previous to his decision to leave this time, Magus had carefully been perfecting a spell that would allow him to open a gate though time, to any major period he wished. But, the spell was very draining, and could only be used once every few hours. It was also very complicated, so it took immense concentration. But Magus was used to that. That is how one became a master of magic. And there was no one greater in magic than Magus. 

Hollowly, the name echoed in the vaults of his conscience, haunting him, restraining him like chains and spurring him forward at the same time. He had chosen to still refer to himself by that name, feeling he had not yet earned the right to be called Janus for all the things he has done in his fight against Lavos. He doubted he ever would, but only time would tell. Abruptly, he threw himself from the mountain face into the howling wind, and with his cloak wrapped around his face, flew to the cave nearby that he had made his home.

He entered the sparsely decorated cave, which was kept warm by a magically lit fire that made no smoke. With little fanfare, he collected his few possessions and made ready to go. With supreme concentration, he gathered his energies about him. He had decided to go to the Middle Ages, the time he knew best, to make his search the quickest. Then, with that firmly in mind, he cast his spell.

Suddenly, all the energy seemed to be drained from him, sucked into a swirling blue vortex that appeared in front of him. With superhuman effort, he lunged forward into the gate, sending him well on to the year 600 A.D. Behind Magus, the gate shut with a soft rushing sound, leaving the cave alone with its ever burning fire. 

***

The rain drizzled steadily down on the twisted trees of the Cursed Woods. Stray imps and frogs shivered in their hiding places, and the Nu were nowhere to be seen. A misty fog trailed through the air, casting an eerie light about everywhere, and causing an atmosphere that gave the woods their name. A figure masked in the darkness leapt nimbly through the trees, his great bounds taking him easily from treetop to treetop, occasionally landing on the ground only to become airborne again. He knew this forest well; it was his home. Nevertheless, Glenn could not help but feel a little uneasy in this cold and harshly unforgiving place.

But even when he had reached his dwelling (little more then a hovel in the ground hidden by bushes) for some reason the feeling of apprehension did not ebb. He looked cautiously around him, his hand going to the hilt of the Masamune. "Whoever thou art," he challenged the night "show thyself, if thou possess any courage in thee!"

But nothing happened. Nothing moved. All was silent, save for the endless whisper of the falling rain. Grudgingly, Glenn decided he was simply being paranoid. Even so, he thought, I shall sleep lightly tonight. Then, he carefully climbed the latter into the hovel, and promptly went to his bed. 

He carefully set the Masamune beside him, within an instant reach if he needed it. It was a needless caution, for if he needed the blade, it would immediately appear in his hands, but even so, it made him feel better. In a very real way, the blade was his friend, and you should always try to keep friends near by. Good night, Glenn! Masa's cheery thought came to him. Sweet dreams! said Mune, not to be out done by his older brother. Silently, he bade them good night, and drifted off to sleep.

Glenn was standing in front of Guardia Castle on a bright summers day. Lion banners flapped triumphantly in the wind, their brilliant red-gold colors reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun. The old castle looked as solid as ever, it's gray battlements and watchtowers gleamed dully, and men patrolled the upper walls with warning horns ready. As Glenn look around, he saw that off to his right a large group of people were gathered on a small grassy knoll just beyond the clear cut field and sheer cliffs surrounding the castle. There were soldiers surrounding it, and Glenn could tell by their uniforms that they came from the year 1000 rather that his era. They had stiff, unadorned blue shirts and breeches, and were nothing at all like the armored and helmeted knights and guardsman he knew. He surmised that 400 some odd years of peace would probably alter the code of dress a bit. But it was still comforting to know that steel clothing would not be in style forever. 

As he got closer, he decided that by the arrangement it was to be a royal wedding, like the one he had seen 15 years ago when his king married. Large banners were hung everywhere, and the seats were decked in blue, red, silver, and gold. Tall silver torches were driven into the ground along the red-carpeted center aisle, sparkling with polished brilliance in the sun. Many court officials were gathered, and the chancellor (Glenn could tell it was the chancellor because all chancellors seemed to look the same) was busily hurrying about doing some last minute preperation. There was a general look of excitement in the faces of the spectators, as if this were some momentous occasion that would never happen again.

His interest growing, Glenn increased his pace, afire with curiosity as to who would be wed. He needn't have wondered, for soon he saw a young man with spiky red hair like none other walking down the isle. He looked a bit shaky, but not exactly nervous. He was decked out in a sky blue shirt with a thin silver lining on the cuffs, and loose but formal pants of the same color and design. He wore a simple white bandana and orange scarf, which seemed to be a permanent part of his wardrobe. He reached the end of the aisle, and nodded silently to the priest, as if he knew him. Glenn grinned wordlessly. It looked like Crono was tying the knot at last. 

In the distance, he saw the bride. All clothed in white, with a thick vale as was Guardian custom, she without doubt had to be Princess Nadia. She was being led down the aisle by a white-bearded man who was quite obviously the king (judging by the crown on his head) and he seemed enormously pleased with the whole affair. Their stately pace soon carried them to the priest who stood nearby, and the bridesmaids were close on their heels. With a kiss on his daughter's cheek, the king stepped off to one side to stand next to the chancellor. The bridesmaids also settled off to ether side, all decked out in blue and pink silk, bouquets in hand. The bride herself stood excitedly by her future husband, evidently impatient for the ceremony to begin.

Glenn considered joining the fiancés, but then dismissed the idea. He knew his looks would not be welcomed by their guests (a frog-man popping out of the middle of nowhere is a bit disconcerting) so he contented himself with viewing this moment from afar. As the aged priest began to speak, something drew Glenn's eyes. It was the faint shining of metal in the sunlight, in among the bride's maids. At first, he assumed it was simply a pendant or something of the like the young lady was wearing. But, even as he watched, the shine seemed to grow larger, until three feet of steel seemed to emerge from nowhere. It was a sword.

Instantly, Glenn bellowed at the top of his lungs in warning, but no one seemed to hear. Like a striking snake, the woman leaped forward, her blade whipping through the air. To Glenn's surprise, it came not at Nadia, but instead sped toward the heart of Crono. Glenn struggled to move fast enough, every fiber of his being striving to help his friend. Crono and Nadia had half turned around at the noise, and it was only his instincts that saved Crono. Instantly, he threw himself backward into a tight summersault, the blade just missing his head and cutting off a large lock of hair. But the blade's momentum kept it moving in a deadly arc, swinging sidewise.

With a swift slice, it had impaled Nadia in the left breast. She cried out for a moment, clutching the weapon, and then with a sigh she sank slowly to the ground.

Glenn hissed, a rage welling within him like he had not known since the death of Cyrus. He strove with all his might to move forward, but each step seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Crono had just barely straightened when he saw his wife-to-be bleeding on the ground. He cried out, as if he himself had been stabbed, and fell to his knees to hug his dying love. Large tears trickled down his face, and he clutched her for a moment longer, caressing her pale face. Then he got unsteadily to his feat. 

In an instant, his eyes locked on the assassin, and in their jade green depths burned a hatred that made Glenn's own seem like a child's temper tantrum. The assassin just stood there, transfixed by Crono's stare, or perhaps by the shock that she had failed. In terror, all the people nearby had ether fled or were right then trying to get as far away from there as possible. The soldiers struggled to get by them, but couldn't get close. And it was a good thing, too.

Crono's body seemed to glow as his feet left the ground. Small shafts of light shot from his frame, filling the air with a brilliant blue-white glow. Slowly, he gathered his full energy. Waves of power seamed to flow from his body, making the scene shimmer like a desert in a summer sun. His eyes seemed to go white for an instant, but then they came back into startling focus, and they were intent on the assassin. An enormous dome of energy formed above his head, arcing downward into a glittering half-sphere. It hung there a moment, pulsing with incredible energy. Abruptly, the woman came to her senses. Desperately, she tried to escape, flinging herself away from her target and struggling toward the barrier. She beat futilely at the wall of her glowing prison, which earned her a crackle of lightning that knocked her senseless, sending her flying backward again to land on her back.

Crono suddenly spread his hands into the air. The brilliant globe shined all the brighter, it's power reaching its peak. Then, with one last insane roar and an enormous boom, he released the energy. And quite literally blew everything within twenty feet into absolutely nothing. The very earth erupted in Crono's rage, causing a powerful earthquake that shook everything within a hundred miles. The castle rocked on its foundations, and seemed ready to fall apart. There was a blinding flash, and then Glenn's vision swirled, and the dream shifted.

He was looking at Crono—or at least he thought he was. The quiet young man Glenn knew was his friend looked different. He had streaks of silver in his red hair, and his face was more lined with worry and sorrow. He wore tight black leather gauntlets with bare fingers, and a dark blue cloak with a cowled hood. He wore loose black pants and a hard leather jerkin made up of a series of steel disks, with Moon Armor shinning faintly behind it. His hands were raised into the air in front of him, and with a deep look of concentration, he began to send dozens of speeding ice missiles at his opponent, each a deadly crystalline dagger. His adversary was hurling balls of fire just as fast, and Glenn turned to see who it was. He gasped. It was Lucca.

With her lavender hair flying out behind her from the powerful force that was coming from her hands, she managed to look defiant and confused at the same time. She seemed to be trying to find a way out of the situation, trying to talk with the attacking Crono. Yet even as she tried to speak, her rival doubled his barrage, forcing her to form a massive wall of flame in defense, turning the lethal blades into nothing but steam. But in doing this, she had to shift her power sharply to the right, leaving herself open to attack on her left side. In a moment of horror, she realized her mistake, and strove desperately to rectify it. But it was too late. Crono took full advantage of her blunder, sending a curving missile arcing around her flames, directly at her forehead. Glenn could tell by the look on her face that she knew she was about to die. Strangely, she seemed very calm, like she knew this was bound to happen one day. She looked at Crono with a saddened smile, tears glistening in her eyes.

And then, the dream shifted again. Glenn was standing in a wide open field of grain. On the far side, he could see three figures a little distance away in the late afternoon sun. Two of them were women, and the other was a man. One of the women was leaning over a man who was on the ground, and seemed to be weeping. Her long purple-black tresses hung in her face, and her light robe was spattered with the blood of the man she cried over.

The other woman was dressed in unrelenting black silk, with short black hair that hung down to her chin. She had an elegant and exquisite beauty, with high cheek bones and full lips, and bright green eyes that were slightly tilted. In her hands was a crystal blade, covered in blood. She smiled thinly, and without a single trace of pity or regret, she lobbed off the woman's head, sending it rolling to her feet. The bleeding man on the ground struggled desperately too rise, but she stabbed him again, and his strength failed him, and he fell dead.

Glenn leapt forward, his huge bounds covering the distance rapidly. The Masamune burned bright enough in his hands to outdo the sun. But, as quickly as he approached and as menacing as he looked, the woman seemed completely undisturbed. She glanced his way, revealing her cold contempt. She flashed him a mocking smile, and turned nonchalantly to pick something off the ground. Glenn stopped dead. It was the head of the woman she had just beheaded, and also clutched in her delicate grip was the head of a spiky-haired redhead he knew very well. Beyond thought, Glenn's mind convulsed at the sight before him, and he despaired for a moment. He had always believed Crono was almost invincible, that nothing could touch him. A thousand little memories of their time together flooded into his mind, and it seem impossible that there would be no more. The boy's power and confidence was incredible, and he had always seemed as unchanging as the Gods. Glenn would miss him.

But then, his mind returned to him. He saw the heartless murderer, standing there, her cold cruel eyes sneering at her attacker. He didn't care if he died. He didn't care if the world never remembered him, if he was just swept away in the sands of time like common house lint. He dearly loved his quiet friend, and he would see to it that he would be avenged. Glenn charged once more, brandishing the legendary Masamune, knowing full well he probably wouldn't survive. The woman merely smiled. Still unconcerned, she calmly ran the man on the ground though again, desecrating the already dead. Glenn could take no more. Raising his weapon, he roared "DIE, FIEND!"

His shout came to his real lips, and he awoke in absolute horror. He was sweating profusely, and his entire body shook with emotion. He nearly wept at the intensity of his dreams, and he was gasping for breath. He sat in shock for a few moments, reviewing it all over and over again, memorizing all that he had seen. Finally, he stood, and went to the side of the room to drink a large glass of water. At last calm, he went over and sat back down on the bed.

Glenn considered what to do. The dreams had been far too vivid, far too real for him to pass them off as simple nightmares. They were something far more, and he had to find out what. Urgently, he reached out his mind to the Masamune for answers, but the sentient blade remained silent. It always did on matters of fate, when things were too important to be altered. On those, it was not supposed to interfere. This worried Glenn all the more; it pointed to something coming soon, something that might even threaten the very fabric of existence, as once Lavos had. He had had this kind of dream then, too.

Glenn didn't know; he wasn't sure about any of it. He was only sure that he had to somehow go to the eleventh century to warn Crono. The problem was, he wasn't exactly sure what he was warning him of. He had to turn the course of events so that none of the things he had seen would even remotely come to pass. He decided that he would set off at once, hoping he could somehow find a way. He knew he would find a way: he had to. 

Glenn put on his own set of Moon Armor, gathered his few belongings, and set off to find a way to get to the year 1002 A.D. Little did he know that someone else was thinking much the same thing.


	3. Chapter II: Allies of Hate and Proclamat...

****

Chapter II 

**__**

Allies of Hate 

**__**

and

Proclamations of Doom

In another place, less than a hundred miles from where Glenn was still ensnared by nightmares, another person slept fitfully. Cold sweat rolled down his pale forehead, and he tossed and turned vehemently. With a startled gasp, Magus sat bolt upright in bed, visibly shaken. With a wave of a shaking hand, the torches flared to life, illuminating the room with their flickering light. He quickly gathered himself, and began once again to examine the dream in detail.

For the third night in a row he had had the dream. He reviewed every aspect of it in his head, knowing that dreams oft times held hidden secrets, especially recurring dreams. The dream always started out the same, with a calm lassitude that made the latter part of the dream seem all the more horrific in contrast.

__

Magus stood in an empty wheat field, with the summer sun set off to the west. The darkening clouds seemed suspended in the endless sky, and the red rays of sunset danced across the lonely landscape. He glanced around, trying to get his bearings. Then, he saw that this field was not completely empty, for to his great surprise and joy, not far from him stood his long lost sister, Schala. They stared at each other for a moment, the man who had struck the world with terror at a loss as to what to say. Then, recognition seemed to flash in Schala's eyes, and she ran toward her long lost brother, and before he could deter her, she leaped forward and embraced him. If I was at a loss before, he thought ironically. I'm a complete doddering fool now… He tried to tell her what had happened, how she could never love one so corrupted as he, but words still failed him. Then abruptly, he realized they were not alone.

Close by was another woman, dressed all in black, a crystal saber in her hands. Magus had no idea where she had come from, but it mattered little. He looked at her disdainfully. With a wave of one hand he sent a massive wall of flame to destroy the insolent woman. But, as soon as the magical fire reached her, it disappeared as it touched her hands and face, leaving a gaping hole in the searing wall. Realizing his opponent was more powerful than he had imagined, he pushed Schala behind him, his massive scythe appearing in his hands. But even as the dread weapon was summoned to him, the woman in black struck, her blade moving faster than he could follow with his eyes, piercing he magical defense and armor and impaling him full in the chest. He could feel the cold crystal sink into him, and with a lurch he fell, unable to move.

Schala, with a terrified shriek, came running to him, and immediately bent over him, tears streaming down her face, about to heal him with her magic. But she never had the chance. Like a ray of light, the crystal blade stuck again, beheading his Schala instantly. Then, with insolent grace, she walked over across the field, and casually picked up the head of his sister, and that of the boy, Crono. Anger beyond the infernal pit of hell rose within him, and he struggled to rise, but the woman stabbed him once more, and his strength left him. The last thing he saw before he slipped away was the form of Glenn, the knight he had turned into a frog, charging at the woman, the great Masamune burning in his hands. He shouted something, but Magus was already too far gone to hear. Finally, the darkness enveloped him, and he knew no more.

Thus had the dream, the_ nightmare_, had been for these three days, ever haunting his sleep. He shivered, and the Black Wind howled within him, in a rage such as he had not felt since the days of Lavos. He carefully went over his line of thought again, and with a sudden flash of insight he knew that if he did not somehow prevent Crono's death, the dream would come to pass. And Glenn somehow played an important role as well, and so must come with him. Come with him to the eleventh century.

He smiled grimly. His relations with the frog-knight were stiff at very best, and Magus did not look forward to trying to convince him to come with him. Seeing as he had killed his best friend, the knight Cyrus, and then changed him into what he is today, Magus couldn't blame him. That was done back when his thirst for revenge on Lavos consumed him, and he abandoned all aspects of human emotion. How ironic it was that Crono, the very epitome of mercy and human emotion, had been the one that had truly finished off Lavos. He had the skill in battle and magical potential that filled in the gaps where everyone else lacked. Not only that, but he was a natural leader.

The thought of the redhead brought the image of Crono from the dream to Magus's mind. He was not a friend to this dangerous young man, but more an ally. He would shed no tears should the boy die, but still… Crono had been the only one that had tried to understand him without trying to change him. For that, and his battle prowess, Magus gave him well earned respect. But not enough for him to do little more than warn the boy. But with this revelation with Schala… Magus would become his best friend if it meant averting the calamity he had foreseen in his dream.

Magus cleared his thoughts. He was dawdling. He quickly went throughout his castle, gathering the supplies he would need for this journey. He girded on his set of Moon Armor, and he was soon ready. He followed the twisting passage to a set of stairs that spiraled upward to the upper-most tower, the torches flaring to life as he walked by. He didn't bother to actually walk up the stairs, but instead glided along them, his boots several feet from the floor. Soon, he reached his destination, the spiraling cobalt balcony which overlooked his castle.

With a final look about him, he leaped off the edge, his cloak pulled fast around his face. He knew Glenn was somewhere in that direction, and he knew that he must find him soon. He tightened his grip on the cloak, the Black Wind howling through him again as he flew toward the rising sun.

***

Crono slowed as he reached the edge of Guardia Forest; his steps sounded unnaturally loud to his ears. The forest he had crossed a thousand times seemed strangely unfriendly to him. The giant oaks marked the forest as very old, and thick brush made for excellent hiding places. It had some monsters some time ago, but they'd seen enough that they knew that he was one guy they had better steer clear of. He had even hunted most of them down once after they began waylaying travelers to the castle, but they always seemed to return after a while. Shaking his head, he continued on his journey.

He would be there soon. It was only a few miles, and he could cover it much faster if he ran, but instinct (or maybe just habit) told him he should be more cautious. And so, he continued on into the forest, the shining sun gradually dimming as he got deeper. The dripping noises and very faint rustling sounds that were always in attendance in this forest were annoyingly present, occasionally punctuated by a gust of wind. But then he realized what had been bothering him; he didn't hear another sound. There were always birds of some sort in these trees, and he knew if it were the normal monsters, they would make much more noise, not to mention be hurrying away.

His hand strayed to his sword hilt, and he mentally prepared himself for anything. Or at least almost anything. If Lavos popped out of the bushes, or maybe even Queen Zeal or Dalton, he'd probably be so surprised they'd take him out before he could allow the sight to register. He tried to walk casually, pretending he did not notice anything amiss. He knew he was probably being silly, because he had already looked around suspiciously and put his hand on his sword hilt. Oh well, he thought. It couldn't hurt. Of course, he needn't have bothered, for a voice then growled at him, breaking the hush about the forest. 

"You're a fool, aleia-leni,"

It sounded all hoarse and hollow, with a faint squeaking wheeze in the background. Crono turned his head swiftly, trying to locate the voice, but it seemed to come from everywhere. After being unable to find the speaker, he settled for looking totally unperturbed. If the coward wanted to hide, then so be it. Crono would find him eventually. "So, may I call you Annabel, since you seem to be making up names for me?" he called out sarcastically.

"Do not joke with me, aleia-leni, I'll not stand for it," the voice replied scathingly, sounding even more raspy. "I come here for a purpose. I am to send you to meet your maker,"

This bravado of the hidden voice almost cheered Crono up. He'd lost count of how many times someone had said something like that to him. "I believe you have me mistaken for someone else, my friend," he replied jovially, "But, dear Annabel, can I suggest some cough medicine for that voice? After all, everyone wants to be in good health before they die."

With a wordless snarl, the person (or thing) possessing the voice snapped it's fingers. Immediately six figures stepped into the light. They looked like large imps with slightly elven features, but twisted and grotesque. They each wore a shining body suit of tight mail, with an intricate blue symbol emblazoned on the front. It was the symbol for the magic of Ice. Crono knew that because he had owned one such suit at one time on his adventure. But these looked to be much more potent that the one he had worn. They also carried short swords and spears that kept changing in length. He would have to watch out for that.

The voice howled with glee. "You see, aleia-leni, these agragre have protection so that any spell of Ice you cast will be rebounded against you! And it is well known that you lack skill with the sword." The voice continued it's mad laughter, punctuated by occasional taunting. The six advanced steadily toward him, their confidence evident on their misshapen faces. Crono grinned, his spirits higher that ever. Oh, he felt lots of gloom and doom about omens and luck at times, but when it came to the battle field, he was at his best. And besides, their revealing their ignorance had given him a clear advantage.

They had no idea what they were up against.

In the blink of an eye, the Rainbow Sword flew out of its sheath, and the two closest of the creatures each became about a head shorter. Slightly taken aback, the remaining four shifted to a defensive posture, and Crono took full advantage of the move. He went in for a spiraling thrust, and the nearest of the agragre blocked it just in time before it sliced through his shining mail, but the move was paid for at a high price, because Crono sliced the weapon evenly in half. The next in line shot out an extended slash at Crono's left side, trying to hamstring him, but Crono almost negligently flicked it aside and continued to press on the offensive. He didn't plan on giving them an inch of room to spread out and use those extend-o-spears. So he continued his onslaught, slowly pressing them backward.

But, things never seem to go the way you plan in a battle. Six more of the strange creatures were charging at him from the back, with much enthusiastic if slightly confused shouting from the thing in the trees. Improvising, Crono leapt to one side, and made as if to run that way, but reversed his momentum, caching two more of the agragre off guard before they could put up their defense. They joined their brothers on the ground.

But even as he won this little victory, the new wave was upon him, their long-becoming blades already in range of his body. He was really beginning to wish he had brought his Moon Armor as well as his sword.

He began to defend himself from this new threat when another set of six was coming his way. What, were the things breeding on the spot? Crono gritted his teeth as one of the blades cut slightly into his side, and an other one left a gash on his face. His anger kindled, he roared, and with a great double slash with the Rainbow, an attack he had become famous for, he took out 5 weapons and 3 agragres, all of which cost him blood from new small cuts. Alright. That was it. He had had it.

Concentrating, he sheathed his sword and leaped into the air-and to the creatures' astonishment, stayed there. With precise control, he exerted himself with the magic he had learned to use so well. A tiny particle of light traveled from every one of the creatures to him-including one from the trees. He used them as target markers, so he would know were to strike. With one last effort, he threw his hands into the air, and a shock wave emitted from his form. Instantly, huge bolts of lightning shot out from him in every direction. Every direction, that is, where an enemy was. In a matter of moments, every one of the creatures exploded, was blown in half, or simply turned to dust.

All except one-one that he had put just a little less punch into the blast. The squat figure fell from the tree even as Crono landed back on his feat, slightly out of breath, but hardly spent. Redrawing the Rainbow, he leaped over to his formerly-obnoxious opponent, and laid the sword hard on the ugly but human face.

"Alright," Crono said tightly. "Who are you, and what do you want?" When the man did not answer, Crono stepped on him hard and roared "Tell me!"

The old man smiled. "If I told you, I would face a fate far worse than any death you could give me," And then, without another word, the man pulled a knife and slashed himself through the heart. Crono pulled back in disgust, and looking at the devastation around-the blasted corpses and splintered trees-he knew he must tell Nadia. There was too many things happening at once for his comfort. Something was going on behind the scenes, and he intended to find out what.

***

Nadia groaned inwardly, seeing another of her helpers coming to see her. She too would no doubt begin asking her about the tiniest thing having to do with the wedding, after which Nadia would have to tell her what she already knew to do anyway, carefully explain it, then answer any questions that might pop into the dippy thing's head. Yet this always seemed to satisfy them. She remembered something her father had once told her. "You must learn to delegate some power to others you trust, for no man or woman can do everything for themselves." She believed him. She wished her helpers would.

'She sighed, her delicate features resolute, her red-gold hair tied up into a long pony tail. She had let it grow long after their adventure, so it now hung down to her waist. She was wearing a simple yet elegant white gown, adorned with small pearls and ruffles. It was perfectly proper, yet had cleverly divided skirts, and a hiding place for her small dagger. Her back itched to this day with the absence of her crossbow, and she dearly wished her father would let her carry it with her. But no matter. She had other ways of defending herself.

Nadia sighed again, a little more vexed this time. She should have known better not to have asked Crono to come so early in the morning. Then again, if she had asked him to come at midday, he still probably would have slept until his mother woke him, and would have arrived in late afternoon. When would that boy grow up? Why did he have to do this every time? Why couldn't he simply get up and face the music like everyone else? She shuddered, briefly imagining herself standing in the aisle on her wedding day, as Crono came running up half clothed and an hour late. Every second she grew more irritated. It even began to show through to the surface, and the maids and helpers began avoiding her. Maybe she should be annoyed more often.

Exasperated, she slammed her fist hard down on the table. A maid nearby, glanced at her, then began to grumble something like "Very unladylike…" She didn't care if it was very unladylike. She was sure that if the maid had said it to her face, she'd show her what unladylike really was. 

Glancing at the clock on the nearby wall (a gift from Lucca) she gritted her teeth. What could possibly be keeping him this long? She swore that when Crono got here she would give him a piece of her mind. She would first give him a royal ultimatum, then she would punch him in the gut, grab his hair, and then-

But all these thoughts fled from her when the man himself strode into the room. There was a vicious cut on the left side of his face, and blood was showing through his slightly ripped shirt. A maid was protesting nearby that he shouldn't just barge in and that he should go to the doctor. Taking note to fire that maid, Nadia rushed over to him, and instantly small particles of light flew from her fingers, quickly healing his wounds. She could see the cut on his face reduced to a small line, and most of the blood disappearing. Almost as soon as she reached him she embraced him in a crushing hug, and he grunted from the force of her grip.

"Thanks," he gasped after she had finally released him.

It seemed Nadia couldn't get out all her questions at once. "Are you all right? What happened? Who did that to you? When I find out who it is, I swear I'll-"

Calmly, he placed his hand over her mouth, making sure to be gentle. "How am I going to tell you if you don't let me say anything?" he said with a slight smile. After he removed his hand, she opened her mouth to tell him the next time he did that to her she'd bite his hand, but snapped it shut again. Instead, she said "Alright, Mr. almost-getting-killed-is-no-cause-for-concern. Lay it on me."

And so he did. He told her of the bell's change in sound, and the bad feeling of déjà vu that had accompanied it. He told her of the voice on the road, and the name they had called him. Then he described the grotesque creatures that had ambushed him, the agragre, and their magic weapons. He also informed her of the mistake in thinking he had Ice magic, and how it had cost them dearly. Then, when he had finished telling of how the man that fell out of the trees killed himself, Nadia spat with disgust.

"Dirty bastards," she growled through clenched teeth. Crono was slightly taken aback. He had never heard her speak like that before. Although he didn't know it, she was terrified to death of losing him again, for there was no Chrono Trigger to save him this time. Ignoring her lapse in language, (something she would never have done for Crono), Nadia sat down for the first time since Crono had begun his story. She put her chin in her hand, and thought hard. She shook her head. Nadia was better at making plans; solving mysteries was Lucca's department. "Oh, I wish Lucca were here," she complained. "She'd have an idea of some sort what was going on."

"Your wish is my command," Lucca's voice came from close by, and with a slight ripple in the air, she appeared. Crono and Nadia nearly jumped out of their skin, Crono's sword flying out of its sheath and Nadia reaching for the crossbow that wasn't there. When they realized it was Lucca, they relaxed visibly, and panted with the breath they just discovered they had been holding. 

"Don't ever do that again!" Crono gasped, still trying to recover. Nadia, on the other hand, took this in stride much faster.

"I see you perfected the Shifter," she said dryly, indicating the metal object in Lucca's hand.

"Yep. Works dandy, doesn't it?"

"Uh huh. Suppose you could warn us a little next time? We're high strung people." 

"Sorry. I'll make a note of that." 

"And just how long have you been following me?" Crono broke in, finally calming down. 

"Oh, about since you left Truce,"

"And you didn't help in the fight?"

"Actually, I did," she replied grimly, her hand going to the gun at her side. "Let's just say there were an extra six coming that never saw what hit them."

Crono shrugged, but didn't say anything. He almost never did. That was one trait about her husband-to-be that Nadia found somewhat annoying. Even in dire situations, he would rarely say anything beyond answering simple questions, and mostly with yes or no. It amazed her how much he could communicate non-verbally in most situations, even in battle. She had to learn that someday. It would really be helpful for court officiaries. Of course, they might be too thick to notice.

"Nadia!" Lucca said louder, and Nadia started. "You wanted my help, right? Then pay attention."

Nadia gave her an apologetic look. "Alright, people," Lucca continued briskly, "It's time to work some things out. First, someone has obviously mistaken Crono for someone else, or more likely someone is impersonating him. Because, after all, there is probably no one else in history that looks anything like him. No offense, Crono."

Crono looked like he was about to say something, but instead remained silent. "So," Nadia said "What do we do now? How do we find out about our enemies?"

"Unfortunately, there is very little we can do at this time. There is too little evidence, not enough data for us to form any sort of hypotheses to gauge a course of action. However, be on your guard."

Crono looked as if he understood most of what she said (after all, they'd been best friends since they were kids), but Nadia's face drew a complete blank. "I don't know enough now to make any guesses," Lucca sighed, and comprehension dawned in Nadia's expression.

"So you're saying that we're just suppose to wait?" a flustered Nadia burst out.

"Yep," Lucca replied glumly. "Right now that's about all we can do. That, and be ready for anything. Not so different from back in our adventuring days, huh?"

"Oh, what fun," Crono grumbled, a sound which was echoed loudly by his stomach. Abruptly, he remembered he hadn't eaten at all today. Without another word, he dashed off toward the kitchens, leaving the women to wonder if he'd lost his mind.

***

Magus growled to himself, and his eyes flashed with anger. Where could that cursed frog be? Despite Magus's best efforts, he was nowhere to be found. He could, perhaps, simply have asked one of the many travelers along the road; those people see everything. That is, of course, if he weren't a renowned tyrant that terrified everyone he came in contact with. How was a frog man so hard to miss? The very idea that Glenn was avoiding him was preposterous, yet he remained unfound.

Magus had first searched the home of the knight, and found signs of hasty departure. But there did not seemed to be any signs of a struggle, so Magus assumed that his slimy friend was still alive. That and he probably couldn't possibly be killed by anything in this age. Perhaps maybe not even by Magus himself. The thought made Magus a bit uneasy, but he had learned from past experience against the Masamune, so if they ever did fight, he would be prepared. He thought that Glenn would probably be ready, too.

Magus shook his head. He was not here to fight, but to ally, to convince. He was fairly sure that Glenn would go along with it, but there was a chance he might be untrusting of Magus, and refuse to go. Magus didn't know, but he knew he must try. He just hoped this little bit of good will didn't get him killed. With a sigh, he faced the fact that he really must go down and ask someone. With a sour look, he steeled himself to the task, and flew down to land lightly on the ground. After a short while, he encountered someone. Their reactions were exactly as he had predicted.

It was a short man with a long, pointy nose and dark eyes. He had messy coarse black hair that was none to clean, and wore a dirty brown overcoat and breeches. His wife rode beside him, her pail dress in a similar state as her husband's clothing, but her long hair was meticulously combed back in waves. She had a gaunt, hungry look on her face, which was mirrored by the small dog and pack mule that were with them. They were plodding along on small, squat horses, not particularly paying attention to the road ahead of them. Magus cleared his throat to get their attention, and they looked lazily up at him. Magus tried to speak, but after one furtive glance at his flowing black cloak, his wild dark blue hair, and fine pointed ears, the two turned tail and ran, whipping their horses as if the devil himself were after them. Magus put his hand over his eyes in disgust. He wondered how long it would be before he met someone with the slightest bit of backbone, or at least who had not heard of him. Probably a long time.

So he continued, and after four more groups of people ran at the mere sight of him, he was about ready to kill something. He spat with disgust as the last group faded into the distance. What spineless weaklings. They couldn't even face him for one moment, much less talk to him. If he wanted them dead, they would have been before they could have gone a single step. Grimly, he continued on. He had walked a small distance along the road from meeting the last group of travelers when a voice hailed him.

"So, I see thou hast taken to frightening away wayfarers. An interesting hobby, but one I myself would not enjoy."

Magus's sheer loathing of the general populous turned into utter surprise when the person he had been seeking for at least two days just walked right up to him and said hello. The irony of fate is truly to mock the mighty.

"I have been looking for you," Magus replied, managing to completely cover up his surprise. "I have a favor to ask of you,"

Now it was Glenn's turn for surprise. "A favor to ask of me?" he asked, dumbfounded. "What couldst thou possibly need of me?"

"The Black Wind howls, Glenn. The tides of fate once more are hung in the balance. Things of great darkness gather again."

"And art thou not a thing of darkness thyself?"

Magus smiled. "I am the darkness in the light; a blighted shadow that only seeks to overthrow himself."

Glenn nodded slowly, understanding the subtle admittance to the remark. Then, he looked at Magus more closely, and an image spun into his mind. The image of the man lying on the ground, dying, with a woman weeping ever his chest. With a sharp intake of breath, he made the connection. "Hast thou had any strange dreams of late?" he asked tentatively.

This time, Magus could not hide his surprise. He just stood there a moment, not knowing what to say.

Growing more confident, Glenn asked "Of a woman in black, with a crystal word, who slew thee and Crono, and thy sister?" 

Finding his voice, Magus simply said "So you have had that dream as well,"

"Aye, that I have. And others, too." Glenn looked at him again, years of hate and suspicion still alive and well within him. To put it bluntly, he wanted Magus dead. After killing his best friend, turning him into a freak, and hurling his entire kingdom into a state of war, Glenn found it very hard to forgive and forget. Yet, beyond all that, Glenn knew that he and Magus had a common purpose. And perhaps allying himself with Magus was the only way to save his friends.

"I've come to ask an... alliance of you," Magus said "I feel it imperative that I must travel to the eleventh century. I'm not sure why, but I know also that you must go. Something deep within me, deeper that our hatred, tells me that if you are not there, my task will fail."

There was an awkward silence. "Very well," Glenn said, extending his hand. "An alliance then."

Slowly, Magus took it. Anything for Schala. "An alliance," he replied solemnly. Some deep part of the world shifted with that handshake. An alliance had been made like none other, the kind that only happened once in hundreds of thousands of years. Mortal enemies put old feuds aside for a greater good, and vowed they would do all they could to assist each other. It was an alliance of hate, mistrust, and above all… honor. An alliance they would keep to their last breaths, for the ones they loved.


	4. Chapter III: The Heroes' Reunion

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Chapter III

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The Heroes' Reunion

Crono sat back, finally satisfied. One got quite an appetite after even a small battle, and especially when you had to use magic. Even Nadia and Lucca seemed astonished at how much he had eaten, and they had known his stomach for practically all his life. The food had been absolutely delicious; the fried roast stuffed with garlic and mushrooms sautéed in meat sauce had been excellent, but the mash potatoes and biscuits with country gravy had been the best. That was the standard fair in the castle, but he supposed they had to do something to make up for living in such an unlovely, drafty, muggy place like this.

Then again, it could be that he was so hungry that boiled stone would have tasted like a banquet. An old saying his mother often told him popped into his head. Hunger is the best sauce, she would always say. That was always her excuse when he told he how good her cooking was.

Sighing, he straightened, brushed a few crumbs off his shirt, and stood up. He had all his energy back now, and was easily fit to deal with any more trouble that he might encounter, and so he decided he had better go back to tell his mother what was going on. She was a good natured woman, generally, but it was still probably wiser not to keep her out of the loop for to long. And besides, he wanted to get his Moon Armor, and other assorted items that would come in handy.

He looked carefully at his fiancée and best friend, who were talking idly. Occasionally, they would glance his way, probably waiting for him to make the first move. He knew this would start an argument almost immediately, but he couldn't see any way around it. All he could do was try and make sure he was involved in as little of it as possible. It all depended on how assertive Lucca was feeling today. Oh well, he'll try the go-fast-for-less-pain technique, not unlike what you do when taking off a band-aid. Trying to sound off-hand, he said "Gotta make a quick stop at my house, and grab some stuff,"

"Not alone, you're not," Nadia said flatly, one eyebrow twitching slightly. He groaned inwardly. He knew that look. "I'm going with you,"

Lucca shook her head. "You've got responsibilities here, Nadia. I'll go with him," Ah, good old Lucca.

"No way! I see how you took care of him last time. I'll go,"

"Hey, I probably saved his life, for your information--"

"Then why did he come back looking half-dead?"

"He did not come back looking half dead," Lucca shot back, "All he had were a few cuts and bruises, nothings serous,"

"Oh really? Is that so? Well I think _I_ would know if--"

"If I may interject a comment," Crono interrupted calmly, "I believe I will decide who goes with me."

Both women glared at him for a moment, then abruptly realized that they had been acting like children. They looked very embarrassed indeed. All right! This was turning out better then he had a right to expect. "Now then," Crono said, clearing his throat, "Now that that's over, I think Lucca is right. You do have things to do and responsibilities to attend to, and Lucca doesn't have anything really important to do at the moment, so she will go with me," He wondered if he phrased that correctly. Nadia looked very sullen and a bit defiant, which was to be expected, but Lucca looked like she didn't know whether to be smug or insulted. Ah, well. He was just surprised he made it through that conversation without putting his whole leg in he mouth.

So, with that settled, they picked up their things and made ready to go. Just before Crono left, Nadia came running up to him, a look of grave concern forming a deep line between her eyebrows. "Promise me you'll be careful!" she burst out, hurling herself into his arms.

Crono smiled. "Ah, and I didn't think you cared,"

"Promise me!"

Crono laughed. "All right, I promise," he said fondly, slowly caressing her cheek. Softly, he kissed her. She hugged him tightly, almost not wanting to let go. "Be back in a flash," he whispered. She smiled slightly, and released him.

"See ya," she said with a little girl wave.

With a wry nod, he called, "Alright, Lucca. Let's get going."

And so Crono and Lucca set off for the village of Truce. They walked through the large castle gate, down the steep stone steps that descended the rocky outcropping, and went straight through the cleared field around the old fortress and started on the forest path. Everything seemed to be back to normal (except the blasted part they crossed midway though), but that did not stop Crono and Lucca from being on edge, ready for any danger. But, nevertheless, they journeyed without seeing hardly a soul, and were soon approaching the village of Truce. Crono idly wondered exactly how old his village was. It seemed to him the path had been there forever, but he guessed that that would seem so to every man who sees the familiar road leading to his home.

***

Lucca glanced around, looking very amused. She had done a lot of mischief before she had seen Crono dashing out of his house like a madman. Made people step over holes that weren't there, had carts vanish for the pleasure of seeing the owner look around furiously for his lost livelihood. Then, just when his back was turned, she made it reappear. She also made a large boulder see-through and rolled it right in the middle of a path that a lot of people used as a shortcut. It had been hilarious, the many different ways people could fall down. Thank goodness no older people had walked by, though. It wouldn't be nearly as funny if some grandmother stumbled over it and broke her hip.

Yes, that had been her favorite all day. In fact, that had been the last thing she was doing before she saw Crono. They were nearing his house, and she was aghast to realize that she had not yet un-invisiblized that bolder.

She tried to warn Crono, but the words didn't seem to come out fast enough. With a startled yelp, Crono toppled over the unseen obstruction, and promptly landed right on his head. Lucca fought hard to hold back her giggles, but it was a wasted effort. She burst out laughing, bending over and banging her knee hard with her fist. A slightly dazed and confused Crono became even more confused when he put his foot down on the invisible surface and found more than empty air. Then he remembered Lucca's newest invention, and glared at her sullenly.

"What'd you do that for?" he asked crossly, and Lucca had to take a moment to get her breath back to answer.

"It wasn't… meant for you," she explained, still gasping and giggling slightly. "I just did that for anyone that passed-to test out my invention," she added hastily, seeing the reproachful look on Crono's face.

"_Right_," he muttered sarcastically, but let the subject drop. Man, what a grouch.

So, after Lucca made the errant rock reappear so no one else would bite the dust, they continued on and were soon at Crono's house. They walked slowly across the green front yard, occasionally passing the massive forms of maple trees and cottonwoods. Crono had often used this place as his practice yard, and some of the trees showed it. He had carved himself a heavy oak mock-sword to practice with, and had used it every night ever since he was 13. Lucca had often thought he was just being silly, swinging his makeshift weapon around and hacking at the unoffending trees with abandon, but she supposed it had paid off in the end.

The house itself was not particularly impressive, with its solid wood roofing topping the stone structure, and a single chimney sticking up on the far side of the building. The familiar solid wood door stood before Crono, with it's simple arch overhead that welcomed him home.

He entered quietly, with Lucca following closely behind. His mother, sitting at the nearby table, immediately sprang to her feet and ran over to embrace her son, nearly toppling him. Ah, a Kodak moment. Wait a second, Lucca thought. What the heck is a Kodak moment? She wondered about that for a moment, but shrugged it off as something before her time. Or after.

"I'm alright, mom!" Crono yelled, struggling to escape. His mother seemed unconvinced, but nonetheless let him go.

"All right," she said briskly, changing roles in an instant, "What's going on? Why are you two armed again? Why were you acting so strange this morning?-And how'd you get your shirt ripped, Crono? You know I hate sewing." Lucca kept forgetting how weird Crono's mom was. She thought her mom would die it she went a single day without sewing something. Lucca was pretty sure this little conference would be very interesting.

Crono shook his head. He hadn't expected his mother to react this way. She usually took almost anything with surprising indifference. Could it be she was on edge because of the wedding? Women were strange that way. Preparing to be stubborn, he looked questioningly at Lucca for a moment, and to his slight surprise, she nodded.

"Alright, " Crono sighed, "Let's begin at the beginning, then." And so he told her. He told her of the reason he had run so abruptly from the house, how his suspicions were confirmed, of the name the little man had called him, and the strange creatures, and of the mistake in identity. Lucca piped in once more to tell how individual Crono looked (which earned her a offended look from the man himself) and the likelihood of an imposter. Marge just looked at her for a moment, and a struggle seemed to ensue within her. Finally, she nodded as if she had decided something.

"I think you two better sit down," she said, suddenly calm again, and promptly turned away and followed her own advice. Crono and Lucca looked at each other for a moment, and Crono shrugged his shoulders. Grudgingly, they took their seats. Marge just sat there a moment, a look of concentration on her face as she slowly gathered her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at them, determination burning in her eyes. She began.

"I know I should have told you this earlier, Crono, and I'm sorry, but something always held me back. I had planned to wait a little longer before telling you-the night before your wedding, in fact. But it looks as though events have caught up with me-us," she paused, and her eyes met Crono's. "It first began some years ago, when I was only 17. A man named Chronos got a job with some strangers that had arrived in the village. He was to accompany them on an expedition out into the islands to the east as a bodyguard. The expedition was attacked somewhere on the mainland of El Nido by thieves, and with the instrumental help of Chronos, the attempt was completely foiled.

"Needless to say, the head of the expedition was very grateful, and offered Chronos a deal. If he would come and escort his party once every year, he would pay him handsomely for it. That suited Chronos just fine, since he loved adventuring, and so he agreed. And so he did. They went on these journeys to the east three times, and Chronos never found out in all that time what exactly they were going out for. This bothered him tremendously, for he hated not knowing what he was getting himself into."

"Excuse me," Lucca interrupted "But what does this have to do with Crono? And how do you know all this? Did you meet this Chronos-or maybe you heard about him from someone?"

"Oh, I met him alright," Marge said smiling. "It was a little less than three years after he got that job that he asked me to marry him."

That drew a look of complete shock from Lucca, and Crono's was only slightly less so. There was a stunned silence for a moment, then Marge continued.

"And so, even though my mother disapproved because he was a bit older than I, we married. But, only a few months into our marriage, Chronos' employer came to take him to the east. And so, Chronos left because he felt it his duty to go one last time, so that they at least could be informed that he was quitting. So he went, despite my dire protest, and after a couple more months, he returned. But then, he seemed a little distant. Not the unfriendly distant or the uncaring distant, just kind of hiding within himself, hoping no one would notice he was hiding something. Needless to say, I noticed as soon as he got back. I told him to tell me what was going on, be he was adamant. He refused to say a word about it. It seemed he would remain in that mood forever, and it did remain until nearly a year later when Crono was born."

She smiled faintly, her mind gone off to times long ago. "He was so happy. It seemed almost immediately that he became his old self again, laughing and grinning, and being all-in-all mischievous. He wanted to name Crono after himself, because the two looked so alike, but I refused. It would be hard enough having those two look the same, but the same name would cause annoyances to no end. So, we decided on Crono, similar, but different enough for me. And soon after you were born, Crono, we decided that the little house we were living in was not large enough for a family, so we moved into this very house. For a while, we were very happy. And then, over a year and a half since he had last arrived, his employer, a man by the name of Santen, returned.

"I never liked that man," she scowled. "He was a puffed up, overly dressed fop with thick, golden hair and a long mustache. He wore far too many rings and gems, and his pointed nose always stuck up in the air. Apparently forgetting that Chronos had quit over a year ago, he demanded that he accompany him. At first, Chronos was polite, saying he had to be home with his family, and that Santen could find another bodyguard very easily.

"But Santen would not listen. His demands became more and more imperious, until Chronos had to bodily throw him out and warn him that, if he ever darkened our door again, he would make sure his corpse was sent to the royal guards. Then, Santen said something very strange. He said 'You will regret this day, aleia-leni! I swear it! I know you have discovered something!' And with that, he stalked off, leaving us both worried and me confused. Chronos told me that the name was just a nickname, that it didn't mean anything. He was about as horrible a liar as Crono is. Late the next day, he took his sword off the wall and began to pack.

"He said that he must go, and that he would return soon. I begged him not to go, but he would not listen. He told me to take care while he was gone, and that he would leave most of the money he had made here." She paused, and a single tear trickled down her face, years of grief barely held in check. "We shared our last kiss, long and sweet. Then he walked off into the setting sun, like a hero in a fairytale, and never returned."

She bowed her head, as if some great weight were on her shoulders. There was silence for a moment, a quiet instant where time seemed to stand still. Then, Crono stood, a measure of sureness returning to his face. "Mom, did my father know magic?"

"Why, no-I don't think so," she replied, somewhat confused. "Why do you ask that?"

Lucca, however, immediately caught on. "Remember when Crono told you about when he was ambushed? The suits those creatures were wearing? They were specifically for protection from Ice magic. And if they thought Crono was his father, doesn't it seem logical that they would be preparing to meet Chronos by equipping those to themselves?"

Marge nodded slowly, considering the information. "But why have they chosen to take revenge now, after all these years?"

Lucca shrugged. "That's what we have to figure out. Maybe they have done something with time, and so arrived in the future. I always guess that at least once, now. Or maybe they found him in El Nido, and didn't quite finish him off, and so have been searching for him since."

"Or maybe," Crono cut in, "It's because he's back."

Marge struggled to grasp the notion, and finally nodded at the possibility. Lucca looked slightly impressed, wondering how he had come up with the idea. Crono frowned in concentration, trying to put the pieces together. Finally, he shook his head. It was impossible to see the picture if you didn't even have half the puzzle. He had to find out more, and to find out more, he had to wait. Oh, how he hated to wait.

"Well, I guess we better go back and tell Nadia," Lucca said, and Crono nodded his agreement. They made their good byes to Crono's mother, and after Crono had gotten all the items that he had come for, they set off to Lucca's house. From there, they would return to Guardia Castle. There was much to be done, and they had to be ready. You never know what might happen.

***

Within fifty miles of where Crono and Lucca walked, Glenn stared impassively out the window. It was about dawn, and the sun was shining brightly through the trees of the nearby forest, a great backdrop against the magnificent view of the ocean on the far side. The Porre Inn was a fine place to rest, but despite the nice furnishings, Glenn wished to be on his way. Time was slipping by at an alarming rate, and he knew that he must get to his friends soon. You never knew what might happen, even in only a few days. But still, he must wait.

Magus had brought them to the outskirts of the forest last night, and had been so exhausted by the effort that he had had to be half-carried to the Inn. He assured Glenn that the effects would wear off by the morning, and it became easier every time he used the spell. Glenn hoped he was right. The stakes were too high to allow for mistakes, and he knew that Magus felt the same way. And so he waited.

Just then, Magus himself walked in the room, looking more than ready to leave. "Let's go," he said abruptly, as if it had been he that had been waiting, and Glenn nodded. He grabbed his pack, which had been readied hours ago, and they walked out. After telling the innkeeper they were leaving (much to his obvious relief. They were, after all, quite an odd looking pair) they set off. They had agreed even before they left the year 600 that they must go to Guardia Castle, because Crono and/or any of the others were likely to show up there eventually. Time was of the essence, and they hurried along the twisting dirt road, their eyes fixed on the horizon, and unaware that Crono and Lucca were heading the same direction about now. The stage is set for a reunion of heroes, and things begin slowly to fall into place. Many things have been revealed, and many, many more will yet be revealed. It's all a question of time, chance, and fate.

***

A cool gaze settled in on the two strange companions as they walked down the narrow path. They obviously were not your run-of-the-mill wandering adventurers. She could feel the aura of power around them. She wondered if they were in any way connected to her prey. Who were they? Why had they suddenly appeared on this continent? Were they sent to stop her? She almost laughed at the notion. No, the man called aleia-leni would die, and so would anyone that got in her way. Her full red lips curved slightly in anticipation, her delicate features and high cheek bones framing the eagerness on her stunning face. Her midnight hair wove a wreath of darkness around her face, and her jade green eyes shone brightly beneath fine arched eyebrows.

Looking around, she wondered briefly if anyone would notice a few discreet deaths. Where she was from, they never did, but here was a little different. Ah, well, her old playground was getting kind of boring anyway. All those islands and strait were all rather restrictive, and her influence had conquered them with relative ease. But, she had to do something while she waited for them to gather their forces. She wanted a challenge (that was for sure), but in the mean time, a little fun would do. Her heart quickened at the very thought. Each kill made her blood boil and her heart sing. It was the most exhilarating experience. The painful screams, the mindless blubbering, it all enthralled her no end. But even she grew tired of killing those that didn't have chance. The pleasure was over so quickly, that she found herself unsatisfied.

Then, as these thoughts chased one another in her mind, a man on horseback crossed her path. Her smile widened. Well, she'd settle for this, at least. After all, all work and no play… He was armed, a long saber at his side, but that meant little. She could only see the back part of his coat, but she could tell from it's make he was wealthy. Maybe she could make this out to be highway robbery. All she would have to do is take whatever the poor sap had on him and everyone would believe it nothing out of the ordinary. An unlucky man indeed.

Silent as death, she stalked after the oblivious man on his trotting horse. Every leap brought her closer, her movements in perfect grace and balance. Oh, she could almost taste the blood, the sweet blood. The distance closed rapidly, and drawing her crystal sword, she leaped with a tight twist that would have put the best acrobat to shame. Then she slashed the poor blind fool across the stomach in an easy sideways arc, spilling his intestines out in a most painful and gory manner. He screamed deliciously, toppling from his mount instantly, while the horse stopped abruptly at the sudden lack of weight on it's back. She bared her teeth with glee, her eyes flashing with excitement. A man could go for nearly two days with a wound like that, each instant in excruciating pain and suffering.

She bent over to examine her kill, and caught her breath. The man was a soldier, with a large lion on his chest, and silver working on his sleeves. He wore a stiff ceremonial helmet, and fine chain mail. A kings messenger. She cursed vehemently, and stabbed the screaming man in the guts again, causing another howl of agony. Normally, she would have enjoyed this, but right now, it just annoyed her. They were sure to be on guard when the kings royal messenger was killed, and she wanted them to be ready, but not know exactly what for. After the job with aleia-leni, her employer said that the kingdom would be a piece of cake to conquer, should she simply kill the king and princess.

The thought of that back-stabber almost made her want to vomit. And that fool man actually thought she would let him live now that he knew so much! He thought that all his money had bought him a free ticket to life. Fool. He should have met his end long ago.

But such idle thoughts concerned her little. Now they would know that someone was after the kingdom as well as aleia-leni, for even common thieves and highwayman know that to kill royal retainers means a tightening of soldier patrols and eventual execution. Only an enemy of the state would dare such an act. She wanted a personal battle, a grand melee of awesome destructive power. She didn't want any pathetic soldiers involved. She'd killed thousands of soldiers, and though she didn't mind the killing, it was so tedious, killing all those men when she wanted real fun. She loved the challenge of great foes much more. Their deaths were always much longer, more blood soaked, more sentimental. She loved the final look of despair on a great hero's face just before he succumbed. Now she would have to wait.

And now, by so easily defeating her sworn _agragre_ and the old man, he had proved himself worthy of her attention. She had not faced anyone in a long time that could overcome forty of her little monsters without using magic. What they say about him not being able to use a sword very well must apparently not hinder him much. Not to mention he's nearing the end of his prime. But now she might not get the opportunity to face such a magnificent fighter, or at least it would take much longer.

Angered all the further, she stabbed one the soldier's eyes out. She couldn't believer her incompetence. She stormed about in an almost complete rage, occasionally hacking at the air. Her face was chillingly beautiful when she was enraged, looking like a little girl's temper tantrum. Then, in the blink of an eye, her mood changed. She sighed, sheathing the still bloody sword. Ah, well. At least now she could kill all she wanted to. She briefly considered getting her army to simply take a hold of large sections of the kingdom, so she could do all the dirty work herself. No, there was a better way. An all-out war was what these soldier men are trained for. She had something else in mind.

She would do it at complete random. There would be blood found in every village, hamlet and outskirt-even the castle, to make sure they could not find her. A reign of terror would ensue, and every man would be suspicious of his neighbor. Mobs and gangs would erupt into the streets, all the while fueled by the subtle influence of her trained firebrands. Her mood brightened a bit at the prospect. Maybe this was not such a bad thing after all. With a cheerful expression, she skipped away, as the dying man continued to thrash and shriek, gurgles of blood spitting from his mouth. She hummed a tune she had heard as a girl, her night-black hair swaying behind her in the cool spring breeze.

***

The clearing right before the castle was visible between the tree's, and the steep bluff face behind it, but Crono and Lucca still felt uneasy. It had all seemed far too easy. They had gone someplace, done what they had gone to do, come back, and no one had been there to try to snipe, ambush, assault, kill, kidnap or otherwise inconvenience them. Things were sure different than when they were fighting Lavos. The alien always seemed to find a way to make events fall into place so the evil sorcerer would just happen to have the item or information they needed to proceed, or blocking the path they wanted to take. It had seemed coincidence at first, but every time they had gotten on a possible lead, they always hit a snag. It made one wary after a while.

Nevertheless, they soon reached the drawbridge, and were admitted without comment past the castle gate. The guards stood at stiff attention as usual, their high-collared navy uniforms the same as always. Crono and Lucca walked down the large stone walkways, and up the flights of stairs. They passed the throne room, where the king was deep in conversation with the Chancellor. He paused briefly to nod at his future son-in-law. Without slowing pace, Crono responded in kind, and walked up the side of the room and into a second hallway. At the end of the hall was another arched doorway with two guards posted on ether side. They recognized him immediately, of course, and let him pass. Inside was another flight of stairs, which passed several odd rooms before reaching the top. At the top floor was another hall, which after a sharp right angle, finally came to Nadia's room.

As they walked in, Nadia herself was tapping a pen impatiently against her desk. Then she looked up and saw them, and in an instant she was up and across the room, squeezing Crono in a tight hug before he could say a word.

"I'd like to keep my ribs more or less intact, thank you," he gasped, trying to fend her off. Reluctantly, she released him, but immediately gave him a stern look.

"Alright, what happened?" she demanded, looking from him to Lucca. "Some trouble?

"Actually," Lucca replied mildly, "Everything went very smoothly. That is, we didn't have to fight anybody."

Nadia looked at her incredulously, as if she couldn't quite believe that that could possibly be true. She continued to look at her that way, and Lucca wondered briefly if Nadia thought she was going to crack under the pressure or something.

"Well…" Lucca began, and Nadia's look turned triumphant "We did learn stuff about Crono's dad,"

Nadia expression changed from surprise, to confusion, to interest so fast, Crono had to laugh. This earned him a dangerous look from his fiancée, and he stopped abruptly. Coughing slightly and clearing his throat, he said "Well, I…um… we, found out about some of the things that link together with my ambush, and how they got mixed up and thought I was someone else,"

And so they told her all Crono's mom had told them, which took a good twenty minutes or so. Nadia listened intently the whole time, occasionally nodding slightly to acknowledge what had been said. By the time they finished, you could almost see the wheals turning in her head, franticly trying to figure out everything at once. She was silent for a time, tapping the pen on the desk again and staring out the window slit. Then she turned back to them, and opened her mouth as if she was going to ask them a question. Then, there was a loud commotion below, and a large splash as if someone had been thrown into the moat.

She snapped her mouth shut again, and with Crono in the lead, they all hurried downstairs to see what the excitement was about. The guards were crowded at the castle gate, and seemed to be trying to block someone from coming in. Swiftly, the three armed themselves, ready for anything. They had almost gone three hours without trouble. Must be a new record, Crono thought glumly, and he braced himself to leap over the guards and face whatever was out there.

***

Barely lifting his hand, Magus contemptuously threw another castle guard into the nearby water. They were such fools. All they had said is that they needed to see the Princess immediately, and the morons had judged the two of them by their looks and ordered them detained. Right now they were futilely beating against a shield of water vapor Glenn had created (which Magus could have easily done himself) that blocked any progress for both sides. He could simple blow them to ash, and the prospect briefly tempted him, but he needed his allies too much right now to get things started off on the wrong foot. And so he waited until they caused enough disruption to bring Crono or the Princess. Which, were it left up to the soldiers, would probably take hours due to how incredibly slow-witted they were.

"WE ONLY WANT TO SEE CRONO OR NADIA!" Glenn shouted over the din, but no one seemed to be listening. They continued to beat senselessly at the barrier, but it appeared they learned slowly. Then all of a sudden, as one body, they staggered back in surprise. A figure in blue leapt over and landed right in front of the guards, slicing through the wall of water as he descended, his wild red hair flying backward with his forward momentum. Crono landed easily on his feet, his Rainbow Sword held surely in a double handed grip, blade pointing downward and ready. Then he saw who he was facing. He was so surprised that he barely noticed when Lucca and Nadia ran up beside him to face the "threat." They had similar reactions. After a moment of shocked silence, Crono relaxed. He blinked and sheathed his sword.

"Uh…" he said slowly "Hi."

Magus silently shook his head in disgust, and Glenn grinned broadly. This seemed to bring Crono back into the real world, and he returned the grin. Then he looked hesitantly back at Magus, who was cold and calm as ever, but nevertheless had his arms folded impatiently.

"You could have sent word or something, instead of scaring half the castle," Crono said quietly, sounding slightly annoyed. Magus didn't dignify that with a response.

"And as for you…" Crono continued, turning slightly to Glenn. "Well… oh well… well met anyway."

Then, to the horror of the guards, Crono extended his hand, which Glenn gladly took.

"Well met, indeed!" Glenn replied with a hearty shake. "Well met indeed,"

***

After they explained things to the soldiers (which involved some very fast talking on the part of Nadia and Lucca) they escorted their strange looking friends to the top floor of the castle. Whenever he visited this future incarnation of the place he knew very well, Glenn couldn't help but be glad of the feeling that he had insured that this kingdom would flourish for at least 400 or so more years from when he had had lived in it. True, some of the corridors were different, and Leene was not there to hail him with her usual greeting, and the old Knight Captain didn't stand stiffly close by in his burnished gold armor, but the old castle still seemed to convey the presence of the many generations of kings that had done their utmost to ensure peace in their kingdom. More than any other place in which Glenn had been, this place felt like home. And he was going to insure that this castle would stand with a new king to rule, one Glenn was certain would continue the Guardian line with honor.

When they finally ascended the stairs and came to Nadia's sitting room, Crono's curiosity was almost overwhelming. After all, when two hated enemies band together to come and see you, it's bound to be something very important. He had no idea how these two had met each other across thousands of years and decided to come here, but he had a hunch it just might shed some light on the troubles they were having now. He just hoped he liked what he saw in that light. Glancing slightly at Lucca behind him, Crono was sure she was thinking much the same thing.

"Alright," Nadia began briskly "Let's get down to business. This has obviously got to be something important, so let's have it,"

There was a slight glimmer in Magus's eye, which could probably be interpreted as "don't order me around". Nadia ignored him, and focused her attentions first on Glenn.

"Prithy, Magus, I believe I shall tell my side of the tale first. It was not many nights ago when, after retiring for bed, a dream overtook me…" And so he told them of the nightmare, of the sparkling clarity and frightening realty of it, of the deaths of his friends, and the enemy which had slain them. They listened intently to his every word, wrapped up in the horrific tale of the terrible dreams. When Glenn finished, there was a dead silence in the room, and it seemed that to break it would bring the calamity down upon them.

It was Lucca who spoke first, releasing them from their trance. "But," she said, sounding skeptical, "How can you be sure that it was not simply a dream?"

"Mine senses have served me long and well, and I can tell what be a dream and what be premonition. And beyond that, Magus's fit too closely to allow for coincidence."

"Indeed," Magus said softly, but his voice seemed to fill the entire room. He turned back toward them from the window, his long blue hair framing his pale hard face in the evening light. He seemed almost made of stone, save that his eyes burned with hidden emotion, and his hands were balled into fists beneath his cloak. And then, he too, told his tale. And then they knew for certain what the mage meant when he said the Black Wind howled. Nadia shivered and began to nod slowly, and Lucca, though still a little unsure, nodded her assent as well. Crono just look thoughtful, and slightly awestruck, at what he had just been told.

"Alright, then," Nadia breathed, "It looks like we have a story to tell you, too." And so they told them of what had happened to them so far, what they had discovered, and what they had speculated. Magus's brow furrowed in concentration. Yes, they had learned much, but how did it fit together? What did Crono's father have to do with that black-haired woman, and what did she have to do with Schala? Why did they seek in Guardia and the Zenen continent now for the lost master fighter, after so many years? And how had that man learned magic?

"Alright," Lucca began "Let's see what we know. We know that for some reason, perhaps to silence him as to what he may have discovered, or for some reason we don't know yet, someone is after Crono's father. Also, we can assume that Chronos also has the ability to use Ice magic. We don't know this for sure, but almost, judging from the fact that the people who ambushed Crono were ready to be protected from Ice.

"Also, we know that our enemies must be wealthy, or at least very resourceful, to have obtained such rare and expensive items such as Ice-protected chain mail and those extending weapons." She paused, frowned, and looked inquiringly at Glenn and Magus. "I've never heard of weapons like that, not in any of the ages I've been to. Have ether of you?"

Glenn shook his head immediately, but Magus cupped his chin and looked thoughtfully into the distance. "I seem to recall something like those, back in Zeal, but it's been so long I can barely remember. A good man to visit would be Melchior-he was far older than I at the time. I'm sure he would know, seeing as he deals much with weapons anyway. Wait... I can recall that these lengthening weapons might have been invented for Earthbound Ones control infantry units. Beyond that I can tell you nothing."

Lucca nodded slowly. "So, they also have a ready supply of Zeal time magic. Perhaps that is part of what they discovered down in El Nido. But you're quite right. Perhaps it would be a good idea to visit Melchior. But that's for later. Now, we have to concentrate on prevention."

Nadia nodded violently. "No more unprotected ambushes."

Lucca shook her head. "No, that's not quite what I had in mind," Glenn's eyes grew wide as he realized what she meant, but Nadia didn't like the sound of it at all.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'THAT'S NOT WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND'! IF YOU THINK WE'RE GOING TO LET MY CRONO WANDER AROUND AS BAIT, YOU CAN JUST FORGET IT!"

Nadia huffed for a second, and everyone uncovered their ears. More than a little annoyed, Lucca glared at her loud-mouthed friend. "If, Princess, you'll let me tell you the plan first," she said very evenly, "then you can decide whether it's necessary to destroy our eardrums or not."

Nadia looked faintly embarrassed for a moment, but covered it quickly. With her most regal (and therefor obviously fake) expression, she mutely motioned Lucca to proceed.

"Thank you so much," Lucca responded ungraciously, and Crono had to work hard to keep from laughing. It would have been okay had this happened a couple of years ago, but now that Nadia was his fiancée, it would be a distinctly bad idea.

"Now then," Lucca continued. "What the plan really is, is sort of similar to what Nadia was dreading, except I plan to leave Crono far from alone. We could just go along with him to draw them out,"

"Prithy, Lucca," Glenn said sounding confused, "Will it not dissuade any attackers should Crono have an armed escort?"

"Yes, you're right, that normally would. But they won't see the escort,"

"And just how will you accomplish that" Magus said, and everyone jumped. "If you think I'm going to mask you all, you can forget it. It is a bothersome spell at best, and is so merely for one person for a short time, much less for a whole group for hours on end. No, you'd be a fool to try that,"

Lucca snorted. "I never planned on asking you, pointy ears. It just so happens that science can do the job just as well or better than magic," Crono's and Nadia's eyes widened, Glenn looked even more puzzled, and Magus just looked cold and unconcerned-as usual.

"What meanith these things?" Glenn said almost plaintively. In response, Lucca pulled out a little metal briefcase, detached a little cylinder, and pressed a little button on it. For a instant, she look like she was standing in shimmering heat waves, than she disappeared.

Glenn nodded in understanding, but he still looked apprehensively in the general direction of where Lucca had been seen last.

"Yep, they don't call me Lucca the Great for nothin'!" Lucca laughed. "I call this the Shifter. You see, it bends and shifts light around matter, making whatever I choose invisible for nearly as long as I want. We don't even have to take the main unit with us (except to recharge) and I have seven of these wands, so we can each be invisible when we want to. And, if we're desperate, they can be recharged by magic. The crystals inside reverberate at the presence of magic, and actual use of magic increases their energy. As it is, whenever I hold one of these things, it vibrates. And when I point it near someone of large magical power…"

Slowly, she pointed the wand at Magus, and it promptly began to shake violently, and gave of a very dim bluish light. "So," Nadia said "We can use them to see if someone or something that has magic is near?"

Lucca hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose you can, but I haven't got that part of it down to a science yet. Some things in nature have a fair amount of magic in them, and we might get a lot of false alarms. Not to mention blue boy over there and the Masamune."

There was a moment of silence while the group considered things, only broken by the occasional sound of the wind among the parapets. Finally, it was Crono who spoke. "Then we all leave tomorrow at noon. " he said. Everyone nodded, looks of determination in their eyes. Everyone, that is, except for Magus. He continued to stare out the window into the mid-summer sky, unaware of anything else for a moment.

Suddenly, he shivered. The Black Wind cried in despair, the chilling sound of it cut the great Magus to the core. And as he looked into the darkening clouds on the horizon, he knew a storm was coming. A storm far more than one of weather. A storm of death. He tightened his resolve, his fist clenching silently in his cloak.. He would show them what the man called the Magus could do. The very gates of hell would not stand against him, not this time. His sister would be found and safe, and he would annihilate anyone who got in he way. He laughed softly into the howling wind, as thunder rumbled and lightning split the sky against the last rays of the evening sun.


	5. Chapter IV: The Slaughter Begins and Chi...

****

Chapter IV

__

The Slaughter Begins _and_ _Children Weep_

Jake Sighnwell lived with his mom and dad on the southern edge of Truce. It was just a little place, with creaky old floorboards, and a gnarled old table that they had had in their family for years. The curtains were old and bleached out, but they were crisp and clean, not a wrinkle to be seen. The floor was scrubbed and sparkling, only the tiniest bits of dust could be made out on it at all. Which left Jake wondering what his mom had told him to sweep it. He stared glumly out the window, to where the other kids ran playing tag, the broom forgotten in his hands.

It just wasn't fair! They were having so much fun, and he was stuck inside doing chores. His line of thought was broken when his mother cleared her throat behind him. He jumped slightly, and gazed up to give his mom a guilty look.

"Alright, young man," she began sternly, "You had better get to work right this minute, or you'll never have time to go out and play. Okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, and half-heartedly began to move broom along the floor. Nodding to herself, his mother walked briskly out of the room, her mind already on other things.

"Pssst!" someone said behind him. He glanced around to see his father, who was looking furtively in the direction his mother had gone. After he was sure she was out of hearing range, he motioned for his son to come to him. His bright blue eyes glowed with mischief, and had that sort of half-smirk on his face that meant something fun was going to happen.

"Don't worry about it, kid," his dad grinned at him, taking the broom. "I'll just finish this while you go out for a bit."

Jake grinned back. He knew he could always count on his dad to give him a break just when he needed it. He turned to go before his mother returned, his father close behind him . They even made it to the door before they heard this loud tapping noise behind them. Father and son turned in dismay to wife and mother. With her arms folded and her foot still tapping, there was only one thing they could think to say.

"Uh oh,"

She glared down at the two of them, she shaking her head. She first began berate his father, her finger wagging in the air as he bore it long-sufferingly. The heated look she was giving meant they would discuss this more in privet. The look turned to surprise when she saw a strange figure looming in the doorway. Father and son turned to look, and Jake involuntarily took a step back.

The man was dressed in thick, oiled leather, and his long black hair was a scraggily mess. He grinned at them, a terrible, toothy grin that was no more than a bearing of teeth. His eyes stared coldly under thick brows, and he had his hand on the hilt of a sword.

Jake's father stepped forward, seeming almost invincible to Jake. He was easily head and shoulders taller than the man, but his eyes were wary. His fingers twitched as if he wish he had a weapon in them. He look right in their visitors eyes, his face hard and impassive.

"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked in a neutral tone, his eyes never leaving the man in leather. The man laughed, a low, cruel laugh that never touched his eyes.

"Why, put up a good fight!" he roared, and his sword seemed to leap out of its sheath. Jake's dad lunged forward and caught the intruder's wrists, trying to twist the blade out of his hands. The man grinned all the more, and with unnatural ease, threw back Jake's father as if he were no more that a rag doll. With the look of a rabid wolf closing in on it's kill, the man lunged forward, his weapon ready.

Still choking for air, Jake's dad desperately tried to stand. He looked up, and saw the blade rushing toward him, and he knew that there was no way out. Jake could only look on, frozen in terror, as time seemed to slow down. The blade crept nearer, it's grim advance lasting an eternity. It was within feet of his father. Inches. Jake's father gave a startled gasp as blade ran through his body, and the life seemed to drain out of his eyes. Jake could hear her mother scream, and his dad slowly slid off the bloodied sword.

He held his head up for a moment, and looked into the eyes of his wife and child. His life flashed before his eyes, and in every bit of it he had joy with his family, all the ones he loved. He smiled, a smile of goodbye, and his head sank back onto the hard floor. Blood ran through his shirt like a flood, making a puddle around him on the floor.

Without bothering to turn around, the man in leather drew a dagger and hurled it through the air. It moved so fast that Jake's eyes could not follow it, but he felt the wind of it as it passed by his face. He turned, desperately trying to see where it went. His mother was right behind him. With a choked cry, she clutched her throat, and fell backward without another sound.   
Jake fell to his knees, his face frozen in shock. The man strode slowly up behind him, his shadow laying across the form of Jake's dead mother. He saw the weapon raised for the final blow, the murderer ready to finish his job.

"Wait," came a cool voice, and Jake looked up at the sound. In the back of his mind, he found it strange that the man had stopped, but now his eyes were all on the woman looking in the window. He glossy black hair and perfect complexion were outlined by the shadows of the window frame, and her jade green eyes glowed like a cat's.

"Leave the boy," she said in her calm, musical voice. The man did not give so much as a grunt of protest, and marched right out the door with his long hair swaying behind him. The woman glanced at him, but then her gaze returned to Jake. Her eyes never leaving his, she smiled. Tears began rolling down Jake's cheeks, and he began to wail. The woman laughed, and turned away without another glance back.

Jake could not stop crying. No! thought, beating the ground with his fists. It can't be! It's just a dream! Yes! It's just a dream, and I have got to wake up. He began hitting his head, willing himself to wake up. He kept hitting until his forehead began to bleed dripping down the back of his hand. No! This has to be a dream. IT MUST BE!

"NOOOO!" he wailed, and his cry echoed on and on into the distance. Children, mothers, fathers, and siblings all cried in the village of Truce. Their weeping pleas rang in the air, praying to what ever Gods there were in to the universe to have mercy. In all the weeping and wailing, and horror stricken moaning, there was on sound that differed from them all. It was a cold, lifeless sound, a sound that lacked anything like a soul. The sound of a woman's laugh.

***

Ah, blood. The fluid of life, the essence of humanity, and the sign of death. It's handy how its all wrapped into one neat little ball, ready to be taken and utilized. How beautiful the poetry, the color, the feel of blood. Yes, she would not let her agragre and other minions have all the fun. She herself had taken at least half of the exactly 56 deaths (she always kept track) that had taken place. The sweet flowing blood, she had seen every drop of it as it was spilt. There was no rhyme or reason to it, she simply loved it. Mercilessly taking the lives of others always made her feel immortal, that nothing could touch her. It made her feel like she could, herself, escape death forever.

Despite her love of murder and torture, something her master had taught her well, she decided they had been demoralized enough. After all, she had a job to do, and pleasures had to wait. She needed people to go to the castle to report the deaths, and she had done all this in just an evening and a night. And leaving the children orphans made the men of this kingdom so weepy, they would be thirsty for vengeance in battle. Now, she just had to have death in the castle. A pity, but she herself could not go (she stood out too much) so she must send someone else.

She obviously could not send the agragre. A bull in a china shop only begins to describe how that would go. So, she would just use one of her discreet assassins. Ah, yes. Sahra would do, she'd fit in perfectly as a general castle aid. Plus, she was good enough to slay herself immediately should she fail. Yes, that would be perfect.

She had to kill someone important; someone well known enough that people would think they could get anybody if they could get him or her. Hmm… who should it be? Couldn't be the princess or king, the nation would be in an uproar to find her then. So who? Ah… she had it! The Chancellor. He would be dead by evening tomorrow, a message on the wall written in blood. Yes, it fit so perfectly, she could not wait to see the effect.

But that's not all she wanted. She had felt of late that her man might have abilities other than advertised. After all, even if he was the world's best at weapon combat, at least one or two of her agragre would have returned. Perhaps he had learned new magic? Or maybe he had friends? To find out, she decided to send fully half her army after him, including the minoans, who aren't effected by magic, and her own batch of shadows, who were impossible to attack physically. Yes, in her years of this profession, she had build quite an army. Now, she finally had the chance to use it. And hiding them in Fiona's Forest provided perfect cover for them. She thanked her old lady for giving her that history book on the Middle Ages. Magus had truly been a genius. She guessed he just didn't have the guts to pull through in the end.

"You!" she said to a person nearby , a demi-human slave she had brought from the islands. "Fetch me Sahra Lanowen! And then send your master to get the army mustered. I want half the troops marching across Zenen Bridge by mid-morning tomorrow!"

The slave bowed deeply, then jumped to her feet and sprinted at top speed on her errand. Yes, things were going nicely indeed.

A stranger. What is a stranger? Is it a man who is unusual, someone who's different? Or perhaps just a man who is unknown. He didn't know. To him, this land was as familiar as if he had walked it's wandering paths but yesterday, and it seemed that he was no stranger to it. But was he a stranger here now, after so many years? Perhaps he was; it mattered little. He only knew one thing. That he was being hunted again.

He thought he had done an excellent job eluding them, but after a few years, they always found him, and he always got away. This time was different. This time he was home, for the first time in years he didn't care to count. And this time, they found him in a matter of weeks. They must have hired the highest quality, then. Perhaps even the Black Heart herself. Not too long ago, the thought that one of the deadliest women in history was paid to kill him would have worried him. But not now-now he didn't care. He was tired of running; tired of hiding. He had returned home after so long, and now they wished to flush him out again. Well, it wouldn't happen like that this time. He refused to be hounded any more. This is were he would make his stand, in the land of his birth. This is where he would die.

But before he left to go to the great beyond, he had only one wish. He wanted to see his family one last time, even if only from a distance. Was his wife still well? How tall did his son grow? He clenched his black gauntlet-covered fists, stirring his dark blue cloak. Oh, how he wished he had been there for his first steps, to see him grow to manhood with pride and honor. But he had been denied that privilege; denied it because he saw what they were doing. The horrible slaughter that was taking place, just for their selfish gain. And, until recently, it had stopped; he had made sure of that. But somehow, they had found out it was him that had stopped them, and had been after him ever since. Now he would repay them as best he could. No more running. Not from anything.

And so he walked onward down the path, one he did not recall being there as a youth. He tightened his black bandana, securing the knot in place, and making sure his half-moon axe was ready. He had expected to be attacked several times by now, but for some reason they kept missing him. It was almost as if there were some impersonator running around drawing the fire. And soon he came to a lonely signpost, with two markers on it, set right before the great Zenen Bridge. The one on the left said "To Guardia Castle" and the other "To Truce Village, Leene Square" He veered off on the right side, hoping what he sought was still there. Hoping she would forgive him, when he could not forgive himself. Hoping, that for one brief moment, he could be Chronos again.

***

"Crono!"

Crono, fast asleep only seconds before, leaped high into the air. "Yaaahhh!" he almost shrieked, and managed to draw his sword before he fell off the bed and hit the floor.

He looked up tensely, and saw Nadia standing over him, desperately trying to keep from laughing. Despite all her efforts, she could not help but at least giggle, and Crono groaned loudly. 

"Alright," he said "I'm calling a conference between you, Mom and me. No more waking me up like that. It makes me paranoid,"

"I'll say," Lucca laughed, a short distance behind Nadia.

"No kidding. Jeez, you're tense, Crono. You've got to loosen up," Nadia continued relentlessly. She smiled sweetly at him, to which he stuck out his tongue.

"Anyway," Lucca said, clearing her throat. "It's time to go, Crono. Everyone else is ready. All you'll have time for is to eat, grab your stuff and go." They sure looked ready, too. Both were dressed in their own armor, extremely flashy, light stuff made out of Rainbow shell, and Lucca had her odd looking helmet on with the little microphone and her extra-wear glasses. Nadia had her crossbow back (Crono briefly wondered how she had convinced her father to let her have it) which he was sure she liked very much.

He sighed, squeezed his boots back on ("Only thing you bothered to take off," Nadia grumbled, looking askance at his slightly rumpled clothes) and he followed them up the stairs and out into the hall. They went down the stony gray hallway and eventually descended another flight of stairs into the kitchen. Crono remembered what it was like to sleep in normal armor (woke up half-dead from bruises) and was glad of the unmatched quality of Moon Armor. The others were waiting there, and all of them looked ready. Glenn seemed like a person that would continually look at his watch (only he didn't have one) and Magus had separated himself off into a corner as usual. The cook had already prepared a meal for him, and he ate quickly. That is to say, he inhaled his food and nearly choked, and made even Magus a little sick. But nevertheless, he got the satisfied feeling of being full like he wanted, and they were soon ready to go.

They were about to leave when King Guardia XXXIII came striding out of the hall to greet them. The king's stance and pace were careful and calm (he was going to say something to Nadia it seemed) but the best possible way to describe the 33rd king of Guardia was… well, kingly. He had a thick, wise mustache with silver tips, and an appearance of vast experience in his eyes. But what showed through most at the moment were deep worry lines that seemed etched into his skull. He paused for a moment to gaze at his daughter, seeing in her a doppelganger of her mother.

"Please, Nadia, be careful. I know you can take care of yourself, but… oh, you better be good to her, Crono!"

Nadia smiled fondly at her father, and gave him a hug. "Thanks, daddy. I'll see you in a bit." He nodded somewhat hesitantly, and released her. With that, Nadia stepped away and gave a brisk nod to Lucca. The rest did the same, albeit Magus a bit impatiently, and she pulled out her little metal briefcase. She had handed them their little wands earlier, which everyone got out. With a quick flip of a switch, everyone in the group faded from view except Crono. There was a little shuffling (suddenly being able to see through yourself has that effect) and they began to walk out the door.

"I'll go first," Crono said. "Then Glenn, then Magus, then Nadia, and Lucca will bring up the rear. And boy, do I feel like I am talking to myself…"

So, with some very careful stepping and good communication skills, the got out of the castle and across the drawbridge, down the bluff on which the castle rested, and through the cleared field. The king watched them go (or rather watched Crono go) with worry lines deepening all the more. And as the day went on, they were going to get a lot worse.

Guardia sighed as his future son-in-law faded from view into the forest below, and glumly returned to the castle. Things had not been going well of late. His official messenger had not returned, and there was no word of him. In fact, there seemed to be little news throughout the kingdom. Even the nearby Truce seemed strangely quiet. That troubled him. Something was brewing in the wind; he knew it. And he was going to find out what soon.

"Go send for the Chancellor," he said to a nearby guard. "I would like his advice in my hearings today." This was one of the days he designated to hear the peoples problems and try to solve them, and having a second opinion was always nice. And so he returned to the great hall and sat on his lone throne, and remembered when it had been dual thrones to hear the voice of the people with. He missed those days.

And it seemed that he sat only for a moment when a man was hurried into the throne room. His clothing was of a fine cut, pointing him out to be a well-to- do merchant, but they were wrinkled and torn, and his hair was dirty and unkempt. His face was haggard and hollow looking, and his eyes were wild with terror. He had barely entered the throne room when he flung himself to the floor, hoping his supplication would lend support. But Guardia was not that kind of king.

"Rise, good merchant. I am no emperor, and in Guardia such respect should be given to no one. Pray, tell me what's wrong." Even though the words were a request, the tone was all of command. 

"Your Majesty!" the disheveled man gasped. "I am Roderick of Porre, a merchant at the local stores. I was selling some supplies to some strangers when all of the sudden, they drew their swords and killed everyone but me! I had fainted at the sight of all that blood, and so they must have thought me dead. They seemed normal enough-a little odd, perhaps, but…" words seemed to fail him for a moment, and he seemed to being trying to comprehend it all. "Some of them transformed into horrible monsters! Not at all like any of the Mystics. Seventeen they killed! For no reason at all! And the blood was strewn everywhere! They seemed to love it."

The king rose to his feet. Murder? In his kingdom! Oh, how he would make the offenders pay. If it took him his last breath, he would do it. He turned to one of his soldiers.

"Captain!" he snapped, and the man stood to brisk attention. Even as the king was about to issue his orders, more men came in. Each seemed as desperately hopeful as the merchant, and had similar stories. The king, enraged by every story, immediately summoned the soldiers. He sent out over 10,000 infantry to the east and southern villages, and 3,500 cavalry to patrol the Zenen Bridge, to insure that his obviously widespread threat was stamped out immediately. The messengers continued to come throughout the day. From Porre, Truce, Chorus, and even Medina. A panicky terror was spreading across his kingdom. Soon reports came in of riots in the streets. There had been a lot of random Mystic killings, from people who thought that it might be their doing. Everyone kept there swords ready. He began to feel almost as if someone had begun a full-scale war against him. There had not been a war in Guardia for almost 400 years now, but if they thought they could just waltz into his kingdom and murder men, women and children… Then it was war they would get!

"Where is the Chancellor!? The king demanded. "He should have been here long ago. Go find him!" A soldier nearby saluted smartly (one of the paltry 750 left guarding the castle) and hurried up the stairs to the Chancellor's chambers. A few moments later, there was a startled yell, and the soldier came running back to the king.

"The Chancellor!" he shouted in a panic. "He's--he's dead! And the guard sent to find him with him!" The soldier's surrounding stirred in alarm.

"A murder, right here in the castle?" one muttered.

"Then no one is safe!" said another in alarm.

"Protect the king!"

Others took up the last, and crowded around their sovereign protectively, and the noise of it was such that the king had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard.

"I said SILENCE!!" he roared, and the men became so instantly. He stared out at them for a moment, letting his anger sink in.

"You are all FOOLS! You call yourself members of the Royal Guard! We will NOT be goaded into a panic, we will NOT give up now. Nearly the entire army had been sent forth to defend your homes and families, and those men are putting their lives on the line for all of us. And you sit here and whine and squeal with fright like a bunch of school children. We will not be intimidated, not by the gates of Hell itself. Your orders are clear. Go to your posts. This castle may be under attack at any time. I said GO!"

All the men became there stiffest, and saluted him in silence, ashamed of the reprimand of their king. At his last command, they all rushed to their posts, on the battlements and patrolling the halls, and only about twenty men were left with the king. Guardia sank down on his throne, his eyes distant. From one eye dropped a single tear. Henry had been a good friend, someone who had always supported the king in his decisions, and had enough courage to tell him when he was wrong. Now he was gone. He tightened his fist, and glared into the expanse above him. Who ever you are, he thought. You shall pay dearly for what you have done.

Guardia knew there was no way to get into the castle unnoticed without magic. The fortress had been improved upon for the last 1000 years or so in it's defense, and after several incidents with Nadia, had been made even more secure. So there was only one group of people equipped to handle this new threat. It looked as if the fate of Guardia rested in the hands of Crono again. Suddenly, he wondered how his son-in-law was faring. And then he thoughts turned to Nadia. His daughter out in that war zone, where a stray arrow could take away from him that which held most precious in life. He cursed himself for ever letting her go. He could only hope she was faring well. Actually, he thought, glancing at his now small seeming soldiers, she's probably in better care than I am!

He only hoped all was going well.

***

Crono felt very odd indeed. It was like that feeling of being watched when you know no one is there, only he did know people were there. He couldn't help but think they were jeering at him or making fun of him or something. If it were anyone but these guys, he'd probably give himself a migraine trying to hear everything at once to try to find them. But they were fairly quiet-after all, it doesn't help to have them invisible if someone could hear a large party tromping up from a mile away. But still, it was definitely not something he enjoyed. Not to mention the fact that he was bait. He hated being bait. It meant you were target number one.

Of course, they realized the flaw in their plan almost immediately. If, say, they were attacked suddenly (the enemy attacks invariably on two occasions: 1. When you're ready for them. 2. When you're not ready for them) they would have to become visible really soon. The reason was, to organize any battle, you had to have good communication; mostly hand signals and trumpets. But, since none of them seemed to have brought trumpets, if they were all invisible, they would have to try to shout over the din of battle to talk to each other. Which usually meant that the enemy would know exactly what you're about to do and stomp you before you can do it. Not to mention they might accidentally blow each other up with one ill-placed magic attack.

Lucca, very hesitantly, had admitted that she had not considered the possibility, but had nevertheless come up with a solution. When it came time to fight, and the opposition was charging, they would become visible again and improvise from there. Which, Crono realized glumly, was his job. He had to be the one to think fast on his feet and adjust. Even though Glenn had some experience that way, Crono would be in charge, and so he would not have time for a counsel to put their heads together while some monstrous beast was charging down on them. He just hoped that Lucca's Shifter gizmo worked like it was suppose to.

They had left the castle forest about an hour ago, and had decided to head south. The openness of the green fields provided ample early view of oncoming enemies, but not much cover. The storm advertised the day before had rumbled and shaken the sky a bit, but now there seemed to be a sort of stillness to the air. There was little or no wind, and the few trees were stock-still in the mid-afternoon sun. The slightly sodden landscape seemed to try to lull the senses, and an eerie quiet surrounded them like a cloak. There was not a soul in sight.

"Like the calm before the storm…" Crono heard Lucca mutter, and he gritted his teeth. He hated old clinches, too. In his experience, they told him that he was not being paranoid, and something was going to happen. The only one worse was "Look on the bright side. It can't get any worse." Last time someone had said that, they had ended up as the newest prisoners of the Queen of Zeal, where they would have stayed had Schala not freed them. But he just knew something would happen soon. And if it didn't, he'd probably go nuts from all the waiting.

He made a mental list of things he hated. Waiting, being bait, waking up in the morning, and old clinches. He was absolutely sure the list would grow before the day was done.

Then, they ascended the only hill in the region, passed upward through the wide trail and picked their way off to the side as well. (At least that's what Crono thought. He just could be hearing things) However, as they reached the top of the hill and looked down, it took a moment of the scene to sink into Crono's brain. Out in front of him were hundreds of fully-armed assorted humans and monsters, all decked out in varying degrees of chain mail. The first wave was already charging at him, and the second was organizing.

"Um… Lucca." Crono said tightly "Now would be a good time,"

"I know!" She growled. "I'm working on it!"

"Well, work faster!" Nadia hissed!

"Come on, work you!" she spat between clenched teeth. There was the sound of her fist banging on the metal surface, but it was too late. The tide was upon them. They had to fight now.

Crono drew his sword, and met the first ranks, the extending weapons they carried very noticeable. He spun and dodged, and slashed through the first two, parried easily, and took another one down. He could hear the sound of confusion from the enemy growing as they were being steadily slashed and bombarded with fire and ice from the sides. Several of the agragre were abruptly sliced in half in evidence of the devastating effects of the Masamune. Large fields of shadow enveloped areas in the inner ranks, and whole platoons disappeared into the void.

But, being unable to see each other, they found it very hard to avoid hitting each other. This was very evident when a wall of flame came roaring Nadia's way, which she barely deflected in time with a wall of ice. From the startled shout off to the right, Crono could tell Glenn was dragged slightly by one of the black holes erupting in the ranks, and the earth shook with the force of the power being sent against it. And then the enemies' wizards and mages started throwing Magic of their own, the agragre made another charge, and the humans surged forward. And then things got really confusing.

***

Lucca couldn't believe this was happening. The blasted thing had chosen that precise moment to decide to take a vacation. She knew she had made all the calculations right, and to this point the thing had worked perfectly. But she had precious little time to think about it now, for another hoard of wildly-swinging monsters was running in her direction. They seemed to have caught on to the invisibility trick, and were sending around little hack-n'-slash parties to try to eliminate the threat. She concentrated for a moment, and muttered a few words under her breath.

Instantly, a pillar of fire appeared behind the now scared-spitless agragre--exactly opposite to where Lucca was. They hacked and slashed futilely at the air for a few moments before the searing flame reached them and they were burnt to a crisp. Lucca panted slightly, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Magic was not an easy thing to do, even on the best of days. She considered taking her elixir, but decided she might have more need of it later. Things had a way of popping up like that.

She looked up tiredly, trying to find the others, but with all the magic of every kind (if very few Shadow) flying through the air and striking friend as often as foe… She knew that until just about every one of these creatures were decimated, she wouldn't see anyone who wouldn't try to kill her on sight-sort of. She glanced ahead of her, and was shocked to see a group of three agragre charging right at her. With a start, she realized she was visible again, but it was too late to react. The first spear shoved hard into her chest, bowling her over and knocking the wind out of her. The only reason she hadn't been impaled is that the spear's magic had been deflected by her armor, and all she would get because of it was a nasty bruise.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled backward away from the now very close tangle of long swords and spears. Growling, she pulled out her Wondershot, and blasted the first monster in line to dust and blew in half his little friends behind him. She fired off six more shots in various directions where large bundles of creatures and men were, and then reholstered her gun to let it recharge. She started sending out a heat wave of magic in a fiery shield around herself, knowing she was now a sitting duck. It was no sooner up than she was pounded by a massive bolt of lightning, coming from her left. Then an ice crystal attempted to slice through it, coming from behind her, but was instantly vaporized. Then different magics began poring from all directions. There sure were a lot of them, but it was obvious they didn't have very strong magic. They were, however, very annoying, and made it so Lucca was unable to move or cast any more spells. She had to concentrate almost everything she had on the shield. She was sure that even a wimpy wizard would be pretty tough if there were several hundred of them. But the bastards would pay in about ten seconds when her gun was fully recharged.

***

Oh, Crono! Where was he? He couldn't be that far! But, sparing a glance over the battlefield, Nadia realized he might as well be on the other side of the moon for all she could get to him. She sent another blizzard of ice spears into the mass, and barely had time to deflect the coming ball of fire hurled at her from a nearby mage. She fired her crossbow, and with a sharp crack of electricity, it shattered the magician's shield and landed square between his eyes. She rapidly reloaded and fired her weapon about twenty more times before sending out another barrage. If only Crono was beside her. All seemed so simple and easy with him around. How she missed him.

She knew she had to find him. She knew it. She couldn't bear to lose him again, not like last time. He had given his life to save them all, and she was going to make sure that if that happened, it would be her instead of him. She never wanted to live with that sadness again. Never!

She sighed, and readied herself for another oncoming patrol. This was going to be a long day.

***

A wave of darkness swept the hoard, and the great Magus easily sliced large swathes out of the enemy host with his terrible black scythe. Waves of power seemed to wash from him, and he swiftly struck down the little pigmy wizards that attempted to bar his path with waves of fire, bolts of lightning and shards of ice. They were all such pitiful fools. They hadn't stood a chance from the very beginning, and had the companions become visible like they were suppose to (on time, that is) the entire army would likely have been wiped out already. His blood boiling with silent anger, he smote another reckless imbecile down as easily as breathing.

Then, the waves of the enemy parted. On the forefront stood a lone figure cloaked in what seemed to be living shadow. In its grip was a long black broadsword, which seemed to pulsate with dark energy. The hood of the cloak was ripped back to reveal a face. It was pale, pointy eared and had blue hair. It was Magus's face. He laughed a mad laugh and razed his sword into the air, and with a great downward arc, sent a wave of darkness spinning in Magus's direction. But Magus was not impressed by cheap parlor tricks and gimmicks, whether caused by real magic or not.

With swift precision, he thrust his scythe into the air, from which erupted his own wave of darkness, which collided with the oncoming one. To Magus's slight surprise, they stayed where they were. So, this magician was more formidable that he had thought. Carefully, he gathered a pulse of energy into his hand. The energy grew until it was a solid ball of light, getting larger every second. And then, with a great roar, Magus brought the hand foreword, and released the energy all at once. A great pillar of light shot from his fingertips, which crashed into the wall and shattered it with massive force. Then the energy erupted again in a upward churning geyser, sending men and monsters flying into the air.

And yet, when the dust cleared and the airborne fell, the man in the cloak was still standing there, but he was no longer laughing. Then Magus did laugh. It has been a long time since he had had a formidable opponent. He was going to enjoy this.

***

He had no idea how they had found him. But they had. And they had come in force. The only thing he didn't understand was, why were they fighting themselves? From the minoans he had seen, he knew for sure that Black Heart herself had been sent after him. But this didn't seem like her type of operation at all. She made any beg for death who do not obey her, and she certainly would not have simply hired a rag-tag group of half-baked mercenaries to come after him. So what was going on?

Of course, being in the middle of the battle, he had little time for such pondering, and he was making ready use of his half-moon axe on the confused and divided hoard. He spotted wizards on occasion, and he immediately dispatched them with waves of razor-sharp projectiles. None of them had very great abilities. So long as he didn't encounter them in a large group, he would fair well enough. The battle would go his way easily if this continued. They didn't stand a chance. But then, he saw her.

She was standing in the middle of a group of weak wizards, and she easily decimated them one-by-one with powerful waves of fire. A pulsating shield of heat waves surrounded her, and her lavender hair peaked slightly under her oddly shaped helmet. She had thick glasses, and wielded what looked like a small tube with a handle, from which brilliant balls of energy erupted. He could not believe the mark of magic on her. She was probably as powerful as he was, but Chronos had heard that one can never see one's own mark clearly. Whoever she was, he had to take her out now, while she was tired and preoccupied, or he might not live to see another day.

With a mighty surge, he gathered his energy, bringing every bit of muster he had to bear for this offensive. But just as he was about to start the barrage, she spotted him. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, almost as if she recognized him. Then, he released his energy.

Everyone around her was frozen and shattered. But she responded with a massive wall of flame, the likes of which Chronos had never seen, and it met his storm head on. A look like she just realized something passed over her face, and then she had a grim and determined look to her. Her efforts redoubled, and so did his, and the sound of steam rising made a roaring hiss that was like a waterfall. He decided to try an old technique to test her experience, as he now saw her power. With startling abruptness, he shifted his line of attack to one side in force, hoping she would send all her defense there, so he could clear a single ice crystal around her massive barrier.

But it seemed she anticipated the move exactly, adjusted just enough to deflect his power, and instead sent flames at him. He quickly countered with a triangle-shaped ice block which evenly divided the flame to either side of him, protecting him from harm for a moment. But she was fast figuring out his techniques. Time for another plan. Now he sent out ice missiles seemingly wildly, many of them missing her completely. He thought for a moment that she would be distracted by them-an amateur's mistake-but as he expected, she ignored them and focused on him. She must have been doing this for a while. She sent a claw of fire that tore through the earth towards him, and he had to lunge desperately to the side to avoid it. But it didn't matter; his ruse had worked. She was dead.

The ice crystals he had hurled her way had formed one massive iceberg behind her, and she saw it too late. Like a giant heavenly spear, it raced toward her, and Chronos almost sighed with relief. It was over; he had beaten her. Her face frozen in horror, the moment seemed to stretch on in slow motion, and suddenly, oddly, Chronos could hear the sound of the breeze in the background. But then there was a glint in the distance behind. He barely took notice of it, so concentrated on the task at hand. It took a lot of immense concentration to do what he was doing, and he didn't let little flashes of light distract him. In this case, a definite mistake.

Then, there was a figure standing in-between the ice and the girl. Chronos could only see him from the back, but he could tell he was short and stocky, with a green overcoat and black cloak. In his green (green?) hands was a sword that shone so brightly it hurt to look at, and it sparkled with white fire. Then, with a great leap and an overhand slash, there was a flash of light, and an explosion. When his vision had cleared, Chronos gaped in disbelieve at what had been done. The man had chopped the entire iceberg cleanly in two, and either side fell forward with a resounding crash, breaking into little pieces. The frog-like creature turned and raised the blade again in salute, and it sang in the afternoon light as he moved it.

With a shock, Chronos realized that it could only be the legendary Masamune. But it wasn't possible! The great Glenn of Guardia, just like in all the tales. He had the mark of magic as well, but not as strong as the girl. But he couldn't be real. It wasn't possible! He was just a children's story; an amusement for the young. The young friend of the heroic Knight Captain Cyrus was just something to make the sound of the death of the warrior sound less sad, something to make you think that the good will always win in the end. And yet, that children's story was running full-force at him right now, and if he didn't act, he was going to be half the man he used to be.

He got his axe out just in time, blocking the great sweeping blow of the mythic blade. His half-mooned weapon was of the finest make, but it was nothing compared to the Masamune. The force of the blow shattered the axe blade easily, and sent Chronos flying backward. The frog-man wielding the blade was incredibly strong, and it took some effort for Chronos to roll back to his feet again. He shot a solid wall of ice even before he had fully regained his feet, but Glenn just took a great sweep with the sword and melted it to nothing. The effort of all this magic was getting to Chronos; he couldn't hold out much longer.

He set up another ice shield around himself, and then the girl pulled out her tube-shaped weapon. With exact accuracy, she fired, and a basketball-sized ball of light shattered his protection like cheap tin foil. And then, the frog was on him again, and he desperately tried to deflect with the now ice-covered axe handle. He was barely successful, but enough to buy him some time. Using the sheer force of the magic flowing from him, he hurled himself backward about thirty feet, just out of the range of his green assailant.

Or so he thought. The girl had stepped forward, and was now up next to Glenn, who sheathed the Masamune for a moment. Then, with the precision of having done it many times before, they concentrated their magic, flung their hands forward to sent a stream of hot steam shooting his way. Once again, it easily ate through his defenses, and sent him hurtling backward. This time, he didn't land so well. He felt several of his ribs break at the impact with the rocky soil, and his left arm wasn't working properly. He struggled to feet again, grunting at the fierce pain lancing up his sides. He stared blankly as the duo approached, certain he was going to die. But, if he was going to die, he was going to take them with him.

With a superhuman effort, he chanted slowly, gathering his magic. He prepared his ultimate weapon, a storm of ice that would engulf miles of the area in an awesome blizzard, killing just about everything-including himself-that tried to stand against it. His preparations complete, his looked up at his opponents. To his astonishment, they weren't even looking at him; instead, they stared at something behind them in the distance. Were they so confident they thought him already dead? Then they would learn how grave a mistake they had made. But, he couldn't resist. He had to look over them to see what the heck they were staring at. It's kind of idiotic to ignore a man who could still kill you, and he didn't think they were morons, so it must be something pretty darn interesting.

At first, he couldn't make out the features of the man walking toward them. The mark on him was so bright, it seemed that he glowed with power. It was so bright that all he could see was the outline of the person. Chronos was briefly thankful he hadn't had this man as an opponent. Then, as he got used to the light, the man's features started to become visible. He wore a rumpled looking sky-blue shirt and trousers, with a curious orange scarf tied around his neck. In one hand he held a magnificent rainbow-colored sword. Then Chronos looked up higher, and saw bright green eyes below a white bandana, and wild red hair that tossed in the slight breeze. All he could do was gape, and the magic he was going to use faded away like morning mist. He was staring into the face of his only son, who he saw for the briefest time so many years ago.

***

Crono couldn't believe it. It was like looking into a mirror, and seeing yourself in twenty years. He was tired and disheveled looking, and his red hair was tinted slightly with gray, but the resemblance to his reflection was still astonishing. The four of them stood in silence a moment. It was the man who had been missing for so many years who broke the silence, lurching and stumbling closer to Crono. Glenn's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but it just stayed there, unsheathed. Chronos now stood before Crono, his face so mixed with conflicting emotions it seemed he would stand where he was for eternity.

"C…Crono?" he said unsteadily. "Can it be you?" He laughed suddenly, after which he grimaced in pain. "I thought I'd never get the chance to see you grow to be a man,"

Glenn cleared his throat. "Me thinks we have had a misunderstanding," he said sagely.

"No kidding," Lucca growled, and looked at Chronos with evident suspicion. "This…person… tried to kill me on sight. All I was doing was defending myself from all the little wizards, and he attacked me,"

Chronos bowed his head. "Forgive me. I… I thought you might have been the enemy, and so… I'm really sorry." He looked very abashed, and shifted his feet self-consciously, not at all like someone his age should when apologizing for a mistake. He looked more like a little boy who was asked to say sorry. So, Crono isn't the first like that. Lucca thought glumly. I wonder if they ever grow up. Crono himself still hadn't said a word. He just stared at his father, unsure as to what to do.

"So," Crono began. "Uh…just what exactly are you doing here?" Chronos looked back at his son with a slightly hurt expression.

"Do you always start conversations like that? After all, I am you father, even if you've never seen me before."

"And why is that?"

Chronos looked at him uncertainly for a moment. Then he nodded. "You have a right to know. A right to know why I was never there for you." He stared down at his feet, and wondered just how to explain it. Would he believe it? Would he accept it as an excuse for abandoning him and his mother? Then he looked up abruptly to the south, and cocked his head and listened intently. He could have sworn he had heard the sound of marching feet. The others seemed to have noticed it as well, and began looking around in alarm. Then, there was a lot of shouting as several thousand agragre charged over the hill, along with a lot of shadow-shaped figures and strange-looking men in horse-hide armor. All sorts of wizards were everywhere in the mixed crowd, and it looked like this detachment had brought a few house-sized catapults with them.

"Ah, crap," Crono and Lucca said in unison.

Chronos looked genuinely frightened. "Ah… tell you what." He said, glancing behind him. "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, we've got something to do."

"Like what?!" Crono replied wildly.

"Like RUN!"

"Oh, shut up, old man."

"Hey!"

Crono shook his head. "What must be done, must be done." he said simply, but the determination was clear in his voice.

So, they gritted their teeth, took a swig of elixir, and got down to business. The battle was long and grueling. Each and every wizard had to be eliminated first, so that they could go somewhere without being constantly bombarded by various magical elements. Then came the soldiers. No matter how many of their fellows fell, the fools just kept coming, determined to kill or be killed to the last man. And then, some of them had to be killed with magic, because physical attacks just passed right through them. Others still had to be stabbed or hacked apart before they would give up the ghost. All in all, things were not going well.

Then, just as things began to look their bleakest, they heard a single trumpet call in the distance. It was joined promptly by others, until the sound of it was a mighty challenge ringing out into the ranks of the attacking army. Chronos, Crono, and Lucca looked around in confusion, but Glenn threw his head back and laughed.

"By the Nine Worthies, here cometh the Guardian army!" he roared. Even as he spoke, huge ranks of cavalry swept down the hill, javelins and sabers flashing in the last rays of sunset. With the wizards and most of the Shadows destroyed, the tide of battle had turned in their favor, and before dusk settled on the grassy plain, the last of the enemy had been slain to a man. The foreign army was destroyed.

***

Crono stared into the campfire, exhausted from the days exertions, and his throbbing headache didn't help matters much. It was hard to concentrate when you felt like someone was beating him over the head with a tree trunk. But as tired and befuddled as he was, on question still burned in his mind. Why?

"All right," he almost snapped at Chronos. "It's later. Tell me now."

"All right, all right!" Chronos replied defensively. "I'll tell you. Keep your shirt on, boy." 

Boy? Crono thought. I'll show him boy! 

Chronos paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he opened his mouth as if to speak. Just then, a loud female voice reached them.

"Crono!" Nadia called, and somehow managed to run across the small camp and bowl her fiancé over in a tight hug before anyone could move.

"Oh! I'm so glad you're alright! I thought I might not see you ever again! What happened?" Crono tried to speak but Nadia just kept plowing on.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, I--"

"And who's he? Is that your father?"

"Um-well--"

"Crono! Answer me!"

Crono bowed his head in defeat, and Chronos started to laugh, and clutched his sides in pain again. Nadia looked at him in surprise. "Are you all right?" she asked.

"Nothing you could help with, I don't think,"

Nadia smiled. "Wanna make a bet?" She released Crono from her hold, and after muttering a few words, she extended he hands and tiny sparkles of light appeared over Chronos, healing him instantly. She huffed slightly with the effort, and had to sit down and rest. Chronos looked down at himself in surprise, noting his energy was back as well. The girl must have real talent.

With startling suddenness, Magus appeared by the camp's edge, his scythe still in his hands. Everyone leaped into the air and had weapons drawn before the mage had gone another step. Except for Nadia and Glenn, that is. Nadia because (as she explained later) she had met up with Magus and had just run ahead when she spotted Crono, and Glenn because he seemed to be developing a sixth sense as to when his former arch-enemy was close. Needless to say, the sight of Magus surprised Chronos more that a little, who thought he was going to be blind for life after glancing at the Zeal prince.

"Ah, gaul-e!" Lucca complained "Can't you wear a bell or something?"

"An could you tone it down a bit?" Chronos said plaintively with his hands clapped over his eyes. "I'd like to be able to see where I'm going,"

Everyone looked at him questioningly, but Magus ignored both of them. "The battle is over," he stated. "The very few remnants that survived are right now running like cowards across Zenen Bridge with their tails between their legs." He glanced at Chronos, who was just beginning to try to remove his hands. "And I see you found your father. Congratulations are in order." He said it as if congratulations were in order, but he wasn't really going to give them anyway. Everyone else was still wondering what was bugging Chronos.

"Are you alright?" Nadia asked, wondering if she had not healed him fully.

"Fine," he said, slowly opening his eyes and squinting at nothing. "It's just your friend over there had more magic in him than 5 Princes of Zeal have a right to have. And you're not much better, Crono."

"Who, Magus?" Lucca said questioningly. "Of course he does. He is a Zeal prince."

Chronos just gaped at her. Oh, great. First Glenn and the Masamune and now Magus. And nether was suppose to have really existed.

"Why would having magic hurt your eyes?" Crono asked, sounding very confused. 

Chronos shook his head, trying to take some of it in. "Can see the mark of magic on people," he muttered distantly. "Stronger the magic, brighter the mark. And what do you mean, he's a Zeal prince? Zeal became extinct over 15,000 years ago!"

"13,002 years this June," Magus said softly. Chronos looked around wildly, and things got worse when he spotted Glenn again.

"And you!" he said. "How can you be here, much less really exist? I thought you were a story, and even if you aren't, you should be dead for 300 years now!"

Glenn laughed slightly. "Crono, thou didst not tell me that story of my assistance with thee had spread."

Crono shrugged. "Never heard stories about it. But then, everything was a little different when we came back from changing the past."

These statements made Chronos ever more wild and bewildered looking (Glenn helped Crono? Changing the past?! ), and so Lucca decided it was story time. "Uh, Crono, don't you think we should make a bigger camp? There are a lot more of us now, it's starting to be evening, and we're too far out to go back to the castle at night. And we can tell your… uh… dad… what we're talking about."

Crono grudgingly nodded his consent, and they brought out the sparse tents and supplies they had brought with them from the castle, refurbished slightly by contributions from the army. Lucca was right. It must be well nigh midnight, and they might need all the rest they can get. All the while, they told Chronos about their first adventure, the parts they had played, about time travel, and Lavos. He was, of course, rather unbelieving at first, but as he listened, everything seemed to make more sense about what was happening. Then they told him of what they had discovered in the past few days, the ambush, mistake, and their suspicions. By that time, they had finished not only all the camp-making, but had had a small conference with the Chief Captain of the Royal Army, and also composed several messages to be sent off to the castle by a swift horse.

Chronos thumbed his chin in deep thought, mulling it all over. He shook his head. "My brain's all full of cobwebs, and I'll have to get some sleep before I can pull it together. So, if no one objects, I'm going to sleep." Everyone nodded their assent. Well, almost everyone.

Crono stood up quickly, trying to protest, to make Chronos explain himself. But, before he could pin him down, his father had crawled into his tent and was fast asleep as soon as he hit the ground. Crono muttered something vile under his breath and stalked off to the tent he shared with Nadia. Oh, well. That slippery old man would have to face him sooner or later. And then, he better a have a very, very good reason for all the pain he'd caused. Father or no father, Crono would make sure he got what he deserved.

***

Two of them! How could their possibly be two of them?

The woman called the Black Heart tightened her fist on the hilt of her crystal sword. The reports she got in were a little scattered, but they all said the same thing. Two spiky-haired redheads had fought on the battlefield yesterday. One wielded a long half moon axe and wore a dark cloak and gauntlets and a black bandana, the other wore a sky blue shirt and trousers, with an orange scarf and a white bandana. The latter bore a long katana that glittered like a rainbow. Both had incredible magic, respectively Ice and Lightning. How could she have ever trusted that sniveling weasel Santen? He couldn't even get information on his own target right.

And that wasn't the half of it. No, it was just the beginning. She had heard reports of incredible fighters in the battle. A purple-haired girl with thick glasses and an odd helmet, a blond with a nasty crossbow, a frog the size of a man with a huge broadsword, and a blue-haired man with a big scythe and incredible Shadow magic. It was the last two that annoyed her the most. They fit the description of Magus and Glenn exactly, which was totally impossible. Even if they were somehow alive in this age, there was no way they would fight together on the same side. They were enemies! She couldn't comprehend how enemies like it talked about in her history book could ever become allies.

Well, she definitely had results from this little test. She didn't think she would ever get the opportunity to face such opponents! They, with the slight help of the Guardian army, had destroyed fully half her army. The weaker half, but half none the less. She grinned fiercely at the prospect of fighting them. Oh, how long would they strive against her, how much would it take to make each one succumb in a pool of their own blood? It made her almost giddy to think about it.

And this was only the beginning. Within a month, she would be queen of this pathetic kingdom, and before that she would face her greatest opponents yet. She laughed delightedly, imagining the looks of terror, despair and defeat on their faces. She was sure this was going to be the best bloodbath she had ever created. All that was left was to lure them into a little trap. And she had the perfect idea. But first, she would send spies to watch them, to learn more about them. Then, she would seal their fate with her crystal sword. Her master would be very pleased.


	6. Chapter V: Aleia-leni: the Story of Chro...

****

Chapter V 

**__**

Aleia-leni:   
**_the Story of Chronos_**

The day dawned hazily, wisps of clouds dimming the sun's light from the horizon. Soldiers on early-morning duty stirred about, yawning and attending to their different assignments. The wind began to pick up, and rustle the tents and trees. Crono stood staring at the rising sun, his sword unsheathed and cocked over his right shoulder. His hair waved wildly, and his clothing rippled and billowed, but he didn't really notice. His gaze shifted over the rank upon rank of men stirring in their tents, but it always came back to one tent in particular. His eyes hardened, and his grip tightened on the hilt of the Rainbow. All he could do was wait for the old man to get up. _Then_, Crono swore, _he will tell all._

Unconsciously, he shifted into fighting stance, pacing his feet apart and shifting his sword forward, blade up and point down. Having nothing better to do, he began practicing forms, shifting from one movement to the next with sure, deadly grace. His weapon sang as he whipped it through the air, it's glittering blade reflecting all the colors of the rainbow in a sparkling display of light. Abruptly, he sprang forward, and in one leap he was stood in front of the few trees in the area. With incredible speed, he dashed around the trunk, and his form began to blur. The Rainbow Sword flashed faster than many men's eyes could follow. Once. Twice. Three times, four times his weapon sang, and he landed lightly again on his feet, his back to the tree. He sheathed his sword with a resounding clang, and as if the sound as he rammed it home had broken the spell, the tree fall apart behind him, many pieces falling to the ground around his feet.

There was scattered applause, and after a frantic look around, Crono realized half the camp was watching him. He was sure his face matched his hair perfectly now. He stood there awhile, dumbfounded, as the camp continued to cheer. It was a few officers' barked commands that rescued him, and he walked hurriedly back over to stand by his tent. He looked around, hoping none of his friends had been watching. With luck, they were all still asleep after their late night last night. 

Of course, he was never that lucky.

"Show off," came Lucca's voice behind him, and he gave a start. He whirled to look, and to his horror, all his friends and his fiancée were staring at him, knowing grins painted on their faces. Even Magus stood there, not looking at him, but shaking his head in disgust. If his face had been red before, it was on fire now. He opened his mouth several time to tell them that he _did _need to practice, but no words seemed to come out. Finally, he settled for laughing and scratching his head. Why did things like this always happen to him?

Nadia walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, Lucca leered at him, and Glenn just grinned and shook his head. It was a real relief when they went on to gather around the fire and have some breakfast.

The smells of food began to drift over to him, and Crono licked his lips. He temporarily abandoned his post over his fathers tent to fill the hole in his middle that he had just discovered was there. Even as he began to chow down on the beef and carrot stew, cheese, flat bread and fresh water, he noticed he wasn't the only one eating like it was his last meal on earth. He paused only a moment in his frenzy to glance over at Chronos, who at the moment was gulping down the water. He started eating again, but kept a watchful eye on his sire to make sure he didn't slip away again. The others talked quietly as they ate, occasionally glancing at the food-scarfing duo.

Crono finished first, his plate cleaned of every last crumb, but Chronos seemed to be lingering. There were only a few small carrots from the stew left over, and he poked them around with obvious reluctance to be finished. He ate one, but then just kept on poking again. Crono stared at him, his patience wearing very thin, and his usually non-existent temper about to boil to the top. Abruptly, Chronos got up as if to leave, but Crono was ready. His sword flew out his sheath, and he would not have noticed if the whole world laughed at him then. The blade rested rock-steady right in front of Chronos' face, and he stopped immediately. His gaze followed the blade up to the man holding, and their eyes locked.

"You've got a story to tell, old man," Crono said coldly, the sword never wavering. "And you're going to tell it _right now!_" His eyes never leaving Crono's, Chronos slowly nodding, and settle back into his seat. In an instant, the Rainbow was re-sheathed, and Crono also sat once more. There was a long moment of silence, as Chronos' head bowed in thought. The others were listening intently, and it seemed nothing existed outside of them in the whole world.

Chronos' head snapped upward, and in a voice like a dead man's, he began.

"It began twenty-one years ago. Twenty-one years long, hard years. Long enough to eat away at your very soul.

"I took a job as a sort of bodyguard for a man named Santen, a merchant who went to the islands to the east—or at least, I thought he was just a merchant at the time. I was good with an axe, if useless with a sword, and had experience with the islands, because I had been an officer of a group called the Dragoons. I had served there for three years before returning to this continent, and by that time had mastered some Ice magic."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Lucca interrupted. "_How in the heck did you do that?_ _We,_ with the exception of Magus, had to go to a place called the End of Time to learn magic. Somehow, I think Speikko would have mentioned seeing _another_ redhead with hair like yours when Crono was there."

Chronos shook his head. "I don't know about anyplace called the End of Time, except what you've told me of it," he told her, "and I discovered magic quite by accident on my own." Lucca's eyebrows rose in a question that could not be clearer if she had shouted it.

"Well," Chronos said reluctantly, "You see, in El Nido—that's what the islanders call their islands—they use something very different from the magic that we use. They do the same sorts of things we do, but the energy does not come from within. They have these things called Elements, all classified by color, and use them on each other in battle. You have to carried a lot with you, because once you use an Element, it takes hours for it to recharge. Anyway, I went out on a scouting mission one time for the Dragoons, and ran into a large group of bandits. I don't know why they jumped me, I didn't have that much money, but I quickly realized that I had left most of my Elements back at my last campsite. A definite no-no.

"As I used up my last one sending a bandit to his final reward, I was pretty sure I was going to die."

"But something happened in that moment," Magus murmured, "when you thought that you were truly going to die, and something surged within you, trying to burst out of every pore. You struck out, and struck hard, and they were ether very afraid… or very dead."

Chronos stared at him like everyone else, and gave a short nod. Magus smiled grimly, his eyes as hard as steel. "You are not the only one who had to learn it the hard way, _aleia-leni,_" he said coldly.

Chronos gave a start at the name, obviously because he recognized it. Lucca leaned forward. "What does that name mean," she asked him intently, "and how did you get it?"

Chronos stared at her a moment. "How in the..! Never mind. I'll ask later." He smiled ruefully, his eyes looking into the past. "It was a nickname the Dragoons gave me. It means 'Storm Crow'. Or perhaps closer would be "Bird of the Storm". They were very poetic, and quite stupid, and no matter how hard I tried, the name wouldn't un-stick. Sometime I ought to go back and repay them for their kindness." The sound of Chronos' cracking knuckles was disturbingly like bones breaking.

"Go back to when Santen hired you out," Crono growled, not caring much for his fathers illustrious past.

"Alright, alright, already! Don't get your underpants tied in a knot." Crono gave his father a very dangerous look, and Chronos hastily continued.

"Well, we sailed for days to reach the place he wanted to go, occasionally stopping along the way. He said it was to hear the news from the towns, but I suspect he had other errands to run. Anyway, we finally made it to a little island in the southern part of El Nido. He left me to guard the ship while he did his business on the island, and after he loaded a lot of cargo in boxes into the vessel, we set sail and arrived at the main island of El Nido. Once again, he left me to tend the ship while he had the cargo carried onto the island."

He frowned wonderingly, a look that was a little strange to see with Crono's features. "I don't know why I was such an idiot," he continued. "I should have seen right away that the whole thing was just a scam, a setup. But no, I just sat back and kept my mouth shut." He laughed bitterly, age lines appearing on his face that had not been there before.

"Perhaps it was my own greed. I was paid very well, after all. Perhaps it was because I wasn't curious. But, personally, I think it was just my own weakening, shaming fear. I couldn't step forward. I just let the tides be. Three years that went on. Three years of burying my head in sand while the pain went on." He scowled, anger burning in his eyes. "Finally, on the third year, the last year, I decided once and for all to see. Marge thought I went that last year before quitting to sooth ruffled feathers. But I had a purpose in mind, a purpose which had waited far, far too long.

"I snuck out that night, and followed a small group of the men that unloaded the cargo from the sight. They did not go far inland. We stopped at a cave mouth near the Arni Village, just off the southern coast of the main island. They went in, and I waited behind some nearby rocks until they would leave. They almost immediately came out again, bearing huge loads of boxes. I waited until they were out of hearing range, then went in."

He paused, and seemed to be searching for the words. His hands clenched and unclenched reflexively, and open tears steamed down his face.

"I can scarcely describe what was inside," he said in an unsteady voice. "They were mines. Mines for the Elements I told you about. But there were not miners working the glittering halls of hell, but poor, dirty men, women, and children. They were so gaunt and weak they could hardly stand. The dead bodies piled up on the floor were ignored as if they were house lint. Men stood every thirty paces, their whips cracking on the backs of those who were beneath them. The sound of picks and hammers rang throughout the dim corridors, and the stench of death permeated the air thicker than a fog. Weeping and moaning was the only sound the slaves made, for slaves they were, their last vestige of defiance beaten from them. They were living dead; lives nothing but empty husks of sorrow.

"And beyond that; beyond the anguish, the despair, was the feeling of evil like I had never felt before. An evil so twisted that even to get near it would bring your worst desires, you most horrible thoughts, to the surface. The deeper you went, the stronger the feeling grew. I wanted desperately to run away, to hide forever, but I could not. I could not just stand by and let countless thousands be slaughtered for my benefit, for the greed and power of men."

His face hardened again, and the anger shone again in his eyes again, greater than before. "I killed all the guards. They paid the price for what they had done. I shooed all the slaves out. They were cowed easily enough. Though I loathed to do it, I got even the ones nearest to the evil, the ones that had gone insane from it, and got every one of them out. I used every Element I had on me to cave in the entire thing, but I knew that would not be enough. I summoned every bit of strength to seal it in a wall of ice thick enough to last twenty years of hot summers. The noise of it all drew more guards. They never lived to tell tales. Though my magical strength was gone, they died well enough under my axe blade. I did battle with many men that night, avenging the pain and death and sorrow with every stroke, and they fell like trees beneath a woodsman's axe."

His face grew somber, and he continued in the dead voice again. "I hired a fishing boat to take me back to the Zenen continent, back to Marge. I didn't know at the time whether Santen was innocent or not, but I couldn't take any chances. It turned out he was guilty anyway.

"In any case, I spent the next few months in a depression that would not shake. Marge tried so hard to cheer me up, but it was no good. It seemed I would never smile again." He paused, and then looked wonderingly up at Crono, and a sudden smile painted his lips, as if denying the previous statement. "Until my son was born. That made me forget what had happened, or at least accept the things that had happened on El Nido as mistakes that I would never make again. I thought, at last, I was free."

His smile faded, like brief sunshine streaking out of the clouds, only to be muffled again but a coming storm. "It did not last long. Soon, Santen, at the peril of his own life, came to me, demanding I accompany him once more. When I refused, and had to almost bodily throw him out, he told me he knew I had done it, and that he would send armies to get me. He ran before I could kill him."

He looked again at Crono, sorrow running deep in him, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "And so I left," he said simply. "I knew that as long as I stayed, my family, my wife and son, would be in danger. So I left; left my home, left everything I loved, and enough money to last them for many years. I returned to El Nido, to try to find some peace. But Santen had not been boasting when he said he would send armies after me. Mercenaries and bounty hunters hunted me for nineteen years; chased me from island to island, year after year. I defeated every one, and for every one I defeated, two more came. It went on this way, an endless cycle of death, until few months ago. I had returned to the main island, to see if my wall of ice still held out." His hand closed into a fist and shook, anger painted plainly on his face. "It didn't. The cave had not only reopened, but the feel of evil crept even to the surface now. I was going to stop it, just like I did last time, but as soon as I showed my face, I was attacked by others who used magic.

"They were about my level of strength, and there were _dozens_ of them. I barely escaped alive, much less put an end to the evil. I didn't really know what to do… I had no chance of living much longer if Santen could hire people like that. I decided… for the last time… to go home. To see my family before I die. Just to catch a glimpse of their faces, even at a distance. Now, things have changed again. Santen has sent a woman, known as the Black Heart, disciple of the Dark Man, of which nothing is known but his name. She is said to command a massive army, and to be nearly unbeatable in battle. She is also famed for her love of bloodshed, and death."

Magus's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. "What does she look like?" he demanded abruptly and Chronos turned to him, steady eyes regarding him.

"She is said to be breathtakingly beautiful, with deep black hair and green eyes. She dresses always in black, and carries some type of crystal sword."

Magus let out a low hiss, and was suddenly on his feet, midnight cloak swirling around him. His face shone with hot anger, and he bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Glenn was also on his feet, the Masamune eased in it's sheath, and his nostrils flared with rage. Lucca and Nadia looked worried, but Crono made no move.

Chronos looked over at them all, wonder in his eyes, and his gaze finally settled on his son. His smile suddenly returned a hundred fold, and he seemed more like Crono again. He stood up.

"Crono!" he said excitedly, his fist shaking in air. "Together, with your friends, with all your incredible powers, we can stop them forever! They will never cause suffering again! The only death they will know for now until eternity will be their own! It can be ended!"

Crono just stared at him, not uttering a word. "Will you help?" Chronos said desperately. "Will you stop the death, the pain, the sorrow? Will you help me stop the evil?!"

Crono slowly stood, and his face seemed carved from marble, and the spiky redhead gazed intently at Chronos out of hardened jade eyes. He smiled suddenly, just a slight curving of one lip, and thrust his hand in the air. Chronos took it immediately, a triumphant look light up his face. "I'll do it," Crono said, their hands still clasped. It was time. "And may the winds of time blow our way."

"It shall be done!" Glenn roared, brandishing the Masamune in the air. Evil would never endure. Not while his body had breath and blood!

"All right!" Nadia shouted, jumping in the air and clapping her hands. Time to save the world again.

Lucca simply smiled, but she fingered her gun eagerly, as if she wanted to take them on right now. Science would once more be put to the test.

Magus nodded jerkily, his face a mask of cold anger. For Schala, forever.

The day had come. The battle lines were drawn, the story of the past has been unfolded, and their enemy was made known. Time slowly began to unravel all it's mysteries, and it seems the last has been revealed. Or has it?

***

The woman know as the Black Heart frowned in concentration, her fingers playing with a jagged, hooked dagger and her mind elsewhere. She was lounging on one of her favorite cautioned chairs, and slaves and servants surround her, ready to fulfill her slightest whim. She failed to see the point in such luxury. It had absolutely no meaning to her. She had grown up a very poor child, and it seemed strange to her that she would not enjoy such riches, but the thought was fleeting, and of little consequence. Their were far more important matters to attend to, matters which actually drew her interest.

She had sent her spies out that very morning, and they were assuredly already nearing their intended targets. She wondered how she could take advantage of the information they would give her. Just little facts; who they were, who were their friends and families, and she would have simply the perfect notion as to what to do to draw them out. But, one thing at a time, and she was patient.

She glanced upward as a movement caught her eye. One of her demi-human slaves was walking unsteadily toward her, her normally reddish face chalk white, and her entire body shook with nerves. Black Heart sat up, and her emerald eyes focused speculatively on the creature. She had had this one for many years, and after the demi-human's entire family had been slaughtered when she had not done a task to it's complete perfection, she had shown no emotion whatsoever from then on. It must be something _very _interesting to shake this one up so.

She made a small gesture with one finger, giving the slave leave to speak. The demi-human hesitated. Black Heart's eyebrows rose sharply, and she leaned forward. The slave flinched.

"M-mistress!" she said haltingly. "Th-th-there is s-someone to s-see you! He…" she trailed as a large figure stepped into the room, and the lights seemed to dim at the presence.

The shape seemed nothing more than a shadow at first, it's monstrous form stretching well over seven feet in the air. The shadow turned, revealing a familiar face. His thin lips were twisted into a parody of a smile, but a true smile could never have formed itself on that visage. His eyes were far too tainted and cruel to be human, pools of death and darkness that threatened to swallow any who gazed upon them. His short-cut straw hair seemed very out of place with the rest of him, and his entire being radiated with untold power.

Black Heart gasped, and without thought instantly knelt smoothly on her knees. "Master…" she whispered reverently, here voice throbbing with adoration. She quickly bowed down, her forehead touching the floor and her hands spread, palms down. She had never expected her Master to lower himself to come to this defiled land. In here heart, she was unspeakably glad he was with her, but at the same time she feared that in some way she might have earned his anger. And to anger the Dark Man was to twist in agony forever.

She stayed there for several seconds while her Master looked down on her. "Rise, my greatest disciple," he said softly, but his voice still sounded like thunder, with so much hatred and loathing and rage that it seemed there could never possibly be anything else. Black Heart rose to her feet swiftly, admiration shining in her face. "I have waited long to behold your face again," He rumbled. "Tell me, what of you doings in this place?"

"Everything has gone even better than I had desired, Master," she glowed. "Even with all the lies that Santen told us, I have found many enemies worthy to be called such, all with powers that will be a great challenge. They will take long before they die, will bleed every last drop before they collapse in despair." She paused, her eyes brightening. "But what of you, Master? Why have you come to me now?"

The smile that wasn't a smile widened, and a shadowy arm tightened on something within his cloak. "I have recovered the artifact," he told her, and she drew her breath sharply. "And after doing such, I decided to pay you a visit. I felt powers in the last few days that I had not noticed before. I can only assume they are your enemies." He looked at her, and she nodded proudly.

The smile never slipping, he glanced behind him. "So, Santen has lied to us, has he?" Where his gaze struck, something flinched violently, something that Black Heart had not noticed before with the entrance of her Master. Santen crouched in the corner, waving his shaking hands in protest.

"It isn't true!" he moaned. "I told you everything I knew, Master! _Please_, Master! I—"

"So now my disciple is a liar?" the Dark Man interrupted. "Is that it, Santen?"

Santen's eyes bulged, and he convulsed with terror. "No, Great Master no! I just meant—"

"I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness, Santen," he continued as if the other man had not spoken. Slowly, he turned toward his servant, one hand stretched out at him.

"NO!" Santen screamed, desperately clawing at the wall to escape. "MASTER, _PLEASE_, I—"

The words stopped abruptly as the outstretched hand lightly touched his Santen's forehead. Santen froze in horror, and for a moment, it seemed nothing at all was happening. But the Black Heart knew better. Slowly, ever so slowly, Santens skin began to contract and shrivel up, and he began to scream. His arms began to stretch out and sag, and all his hair fell out. Abruptly, his face began to drift, slowly tearing away, revealing rapidly rotting flesh. All the rest of him began to decay at an incredible pace, and soon his arms and legs were falling apart, and his bones began turning to butter. Finally, his head rotted completely away, leaving nothing but a bubbling pile of skin and blood. He had screamed up until the very last instant. Black Heart could only smile.

"Now then," the Dark Man said softly as if nothing unusual had happened, "Now that that has been dealt with, I think I should take a look at these new enemies, don't you?" His disciple nodded eagerly. Her Master had always had the ability to send his mind out and see and hear people from great distances away. He could even read some peoples thoughts: especially people that had a turn toward darkness. This would mean she would not have to wait for her spies after all. She rubbed her hands eagerly, like a little girl waiting for a present.

Her Master cupped his hands together, and his head bowed slightly. There was a silent moment, but after that passed, their began to be a faint glow surrounding the Dark Man. She knew he was already gone. She wondered what secrets he would garner, and who among her enemies would he be able to read? She would simply have to wait.

***

Magus sat up abruptly from his stoop, and his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. He could feel something watching; something with an evil so pure, it almost made him appear almost saintly. It felt almost like it was whispering in his ear, speaking in a voice just low enough so that he couldn't catch the words. But where? Where was it coming from? Though the sense of it was clear, he could see no other indication of a presence. He began to watch the trees warily, and his eyes shot toward any sudden movements. He paid the conversation the others were having only half a mind, but it still in his ears.

"I know!" Lucca Ashtear was saying. "I'll go get Epoch! With the weaponry it carries and the speed it goes, it'll be great for fighting this Black Heart's army. And besides, we can visit Melchior using it." She shuddered briefly. "It's much better than taking the whirlpool to the other continent."

"Great idea, Lucca!" Nadia said excitedly. "It'll be great to be flying around in the Wings of Time again!"

"This _isn't _a pleasure cruise, Nadia. We're getting it to serve a purpose, not to go joy-riding in."

"Oh, come _off it._ Like you don't want to test out the new modifications you've made to it."

"How did you know…"

Nadia smiled at her sweetly. "I don't have your scientific genius, but I do have a pair of eyes, and I know how to use them."

"Ah, shut up."

"Hey! Don't you tell me to…" Magus jerked his head away in disgust, not even paying half a mind anymore. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the evil was gone. He stared around in confusion, trying to puzzle out what it was. What was it? Where did it come from? He decided it was useless to tell the others. After all, it was nothing but a feeling, and no matter how much he trusted his feelings, he need more solid evidence before he told _them_. Time would tell. That's just the way it was.

***

Suddenly, the glow around her Master disappeared, and he looked up at her. Something very close to excitement lit his soulless eyes, and she knew at once that he was pleased.

"Come," he said shortly. "We will talk of our new enemies. I have gained all I need to know about them. One among them was very close the darkness at one time, and some of it still lives in him." A laugh that had no humanity in it echoing in the little tent, and his fist tightened on something in his cloak again. She wondered what it was, but if her Master saw fit to keep it from her, then that's how it would be.

"Now," the Dark Man said, "I will tell you the story of a once glorious man named Magus, who gave up his great vision for a worthless, weakening emotion. A man who allied himself with his enemies, and gave up his goals for a mere woman. I'm sure you will like it. It will truly be our foes undoing."

***

The woman blinked and looked around as the glow of a blue vortex faded behind her, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light of the blinding daystar. She had just come from a place that had always been dark, and she had not seen the sun, the beautiful, _glorious_ sun, for more years than she cared to count, for more lifetimes than she could ever remember.

She shivered at the thought. She had been kept there while endless years stretched by, forever locked in the nightmare of an entities' infinite enmity for her planet. An enmity that had not died even with that which gave it birth's own death, and had kept on to threaten all time once again. She, in a way, had been it's slave, it's power source. It had kept her locked away, unable to feel anything of herself, unable to fight it. Only half-seen visions of the outside world kept her going, kept her sane. But now, that didn't matter. The song, the song the boy had played, had set her free. Free, so that she could return to the one she held dear.

She looked down at herself, and smiled slightly. Her fine purple silk robe was wrinkled and tattered, and her violet hair was snarled and unkempt. The smile faded into a pensive frown, and she shrugged. _I suppose I can cheat a little…_ she thought, blushing. _Just this once. _With brief look of concentration and wave of one hand, a brilliant light surrounded her. It stayed there a moment, pulsating, and then with a purple-gold flash, it was gone.

Her hair was now combed and immaculate, her dress was unlined and clean, and her formerly bare feet were now shod in a pair of sturdy slippers. She looked down at herself, spun in a happy circle, giggling and admiring her handiwork. Yes, this would be just fine! She knew it was a little vain, and more than a bit silly, but it made her feel better. It was just a girl thing.

Her eyes widened a moment as something came to her. Her expression brightened all the more, and she stopped spinning. He was here! She could feel him! She couldn't tell where, or how, but she knew it as surely as she was standing there. At last; at long, long last, she would they would be reunited. Nothing would hurt them again.

__

I'm coming for you, Janus.


	7. Chapter VI: The Storm

****

Chapter VI

__

The Storm

"Ready, guys?" Lucca grinned, thumbing a large switch on a remote control. They were standing some twenty miles from Zenen Bridge, about ten miles or so from Lucca's house.

"Yep," Nadia said grimly, hunching down in her armor, and Crono nodded from behind a large rock. Glenn had the Masamune drawn and looked like he was going to use it as a shield, and even the Magus stood some distance away from the brainy girl, his cloak pulled tightly around him. Only Chronos was anywhere near her, mild confusion and apprehension playing across his face.

"Ah, come on, ya pansies!" Lucca shouted at them. "My inventions work just fine!"

"Oh yeah?" Crono said. "What about the time you made that instant heat device and nearly burnt down your house?'

"That was years ago! And it would of worked out fine if my dad hadn't been messing with it!"

"What about the time with the Telepod, hmm?" Nadia pointed out.

"That was because of your pendant, not my—"

"And the cleaning robot that ate your laundry and went on a rampage?"

"Isolated incident, not—"

"Or the lawn mower that started eating trees?"

"Well—"

"Or the time with the printing machine that started shooting paper at people?"

"Hey, I—"

"Or the Combuster—"

"Or the Antigravity Boots—"

"Or the Shifter—"

"ALRIGHT, ALREADY!" Lucca roared, stomping a foot. "So my inventions don't always _initially_ do what they're supposed to, but they all get fixed, don't they? Besides, none of them has ever seriously hurt anybody."

"What about the—" Crono began, but Lucca drew her gun and blew his boulder to gravel.

"Shut. Up," she told him. He nodded frantically, but nonetheless ducked behind another rock. She took a deep breath, and shook herself. "Anyway, all this is supposed to do is make Epoch lift off, fly to our position, and land. Nothing else. Okay?"

They nodded reluctantly, and Lucca sighed and pressed the button. After a few minutes, they heard a familiar roar in the distance. A single point of light appeared on the horizon, and then the Wings of Time came hurdling in, its sleek surface reflecting in the morning glow. It came to an abrupt halt in the air, then slowly began to descend to the ground. Almost as an afterthought, its port laser-cannon fired, carving a large fissure where Crono's rock had until recently been.

"See!" Crono shouted, leaning farther away. "What did I tell you?!"

Lucca ignored him. "Alright, everybody, climb in. I've added three extra seats, so we should all fit just dandy." She turned to Crono. "Come on, punk-head. You're driving."

They climbed quickly into the Epoch, Chronos albeit a bit hesitantly, and Crono flicked a few start up switches. He stopped abruptly. "You haven't changed the controls, have you?"

Lucca glared at him. "No. Just don't press any buttons you don't recognize, okay?"

"Right," Crono replied, nodding his head vigorously.

The top plate slid closed, and the Epoch lifted off. Crono punched a couple buttons (ones that he was sure he knew) and they went screaming off into the atmosphere.

***

Melchior smoked thoughtfully on his pipe as the sun continued to rise. Over his many years and places in the ages he had lived, he had found none so peaceful and calm as the eleventh century. Being a weapons dealer, peace was generally bad for business, but he enjoyed it anyway. Besides, there was always the occasional buyer looking for a shiny new sword, without much real worth, and he got by on that.

He sighed. The only problem with that was he never got a challenge anymore. No Dreamstone, no Rainbow Shell; not even some good old-fashioned mytheral for quite some time. Nobody could afford it. He had a fair amount in stock, but nothing to do with it. 

He wondered abruptly how his favorite customers were doing. Crono and Nadia were supposed to get married soon, weren't they? He could have sworn they sent him an invitation. He would just have to go and look for it.

Melchior got up to go inside, but then a roaring sound that he hadn't heard in about two years made him pause. He smiled and rubbed his hands. It looked like he might get a challenge today after all.

A moment later, the Epoch screeched to a halt high in the air, and then gracefully settled on Melchior's front lawn. Familiar figures jumped out, including a couple he thought he would never lay eyes on again. Something must be going on.

"Crono, Nadia, Lucca!" he said. "Welcome! I assume this is something important?"

Lucca nodded briskly. "Yep. Shouldn't we discuss this inside?"

Melchior nodded. "Right this way, then."

***

"Sometimes, you people make me tired." Melchior muttered around his pipe. Crono shrugged, and Lucca and Nadia looked at him expectantly. Magus was in retreat, and Glenn and Chronos were examining some of the weapons that lined the walls.

"Well, I can tell you one thing," the old man said, "I know exactly where those extending weapons are from."

"You do?" Lucca asked. "Who? When?"

Melchior bowed his head thoughtfully. "Back in the early days of the Kingdom of Zeal, we had some trouble with riots by the Earthbound Ones. They were just starving, and needed food, but that was at the time when the queen was already losing her mind. She ordered Dalton to do something about it.

"So, Dalton invented what are called _ish-caren, _the extendable weapons you described, and armed several squads with them. This was before he found that family of Golums and brought them under his control. Anyway, he decimated the poor beggars, and after they fled, the queen gave him a medal for his service, and the _ish-caren_ were used in the Earthbound Control Corp. thereafter."

He snorted. "The problem with them is they all have definite weaknesses. The hilts are made of a slightly weaker magic substance to make the changing metal possible, so they could be easily destroyed by any of your weapons."

Lucca nodded thoughtfully. "Thanks for the information, Melchior. Now, could we convince you to make a splendid little axe for Crono's dad there?"

Melchior rubbed his hands together. "Certainly. Any of you wouldn't happen to have any material to make it out of, would you?"

Crono, Nadia, Lucca and Glenn shook their heads, Magus ignored them, but Chronos frowned. "Just a moment," he said. "I think I have something, if it's still in my pack."

He rummaged around in his rucksack for a moment, then gave a satisfied grunt. He pulled out a large silvery tube, about five feet long and an inch and a half thick, and handed it to Melchior.

"Got this from one of my buddies in the Dragoons," he told them. "Told me it was valuable, and if I should ever find a talented weapons master, I should have him make something out of it."

Melchior was running his hands over the bar, a nearly gleeful expression lighting up his face. "Young man, do you have any idea what this is?"

"Um… no?"

"This, my friend, is nothing less than pure _adamantium_. So hard, for ages it couldn't even be taken out of its ore form. The ways to do it have been lost for well nigh 14,000 years now, so this specimen must be very old." He grinned and smacked the bar into his palm. "Good thing I kept those Rainbow Shell carving tools, or I wouldn't be able to cut this at all. Give me a few hours, and you'll have an axe the like of which has not been seen in… well, ever.

"Come along downstairs and help me, Lucca," he said jovially, waving her forward. "We've got some work to do, and little time to do it in."

Lucca nodded, and walked briskly down the stairs behind him. He paused, and looked behind him, at Nadia. "Nadia, dear, would you mind assisting us as well?"

Nadia blinked in surprise, and then nodded excitedly. "Sure, I'll help!" She bounded down after them, and Melchior chuckled and rubbed his hands on his latest toy.

***

After some hours of pacing and boredom, Lucca, Nadia and Melchior emerged from below, bearing another masterpiece. "This," Melchior announced, flashing the four-foot handle already lined with beautiful scrollwork, "is what I'm choosing to call the Frost Axe. By combining the mytheral I have in stock with this excellent specimen of adamantium, and some very powerful forging fire from Lucca, and Ice Magic from Nadia, I've made another one that should be about on par with the rest of your weapons. Not as sharp as the Rainbow Sword, perhaps, and not as powerful as the Masamune, but still… It's a fine work in its own right."

He handed it over to Chronos, who balanced it carefully in his hands. "It's… incredible!" He exclaimed, running his hand along the aft of the weapon. "How did you make it so fast?"

Melchior chuckled, smoothing his mustache. "Trade secret, I'm afraid. I'll get some apprentices who I'll show it all to some day, but until then, I'm afraid I'll have to leave it at that."

Chronos carefully slid the Frost Axe into his belt loop as Melchior turned to Crono, Nadia and Lucca. "Now," he said, rubbing his hands together, "about my payment… Mytheral is not cheap, you know."

Lucca looked at Nadia; Nadia looked at Crono; Crono grumbled, and dug into his pockets. 

***

"Later, Melchior!" Lucca shouted as Epoch rose into the air. He waved and nodded, and then shouted, "I'll see you all at the wedding!"

Crono grinned and nodded, then turned to Lucca. "Where to?" he asked.

"Let's go to my house," she said over the sound of the engine. "I've got to grab one last thing there I'd like to get. Then, we go back to the castle to check for news."

Crono nodded again, and kicked in the full engines, and they went rocketing out across the sunny sky.

***

Crono landed the Wings of Time onto the side of Lucca's yard with a slight bump, and Lucca herself leapt out and was already moving even before the engine had died. Nadia trotted along behind, evidently curious about what Lucca was getting, and the others got out and stretched a bit.

"How do you get used to that?" Chronos groaned, his hands on his stomach. "I thought I'd leave a trail of half-digested food every step of the way."

Crono shrugged. "Guess you just do."

Glenn got out and yawned, his amphibian mouth going very wide. He paused mid-stretch, though, and his hand shot to the Masamune.

"Someone has been here," Magus said suddenly. One second, the magus was still in the cockpit of Epoch, and then he was through the front door, without seeming to have bothered with the space between. Crono rushed in after him, worriedly noting that the door had been shattered. Glenn followed close behind. 

The inside was a mess; furniture overturned and machinery broken, and slight burns were on several of the walls. Magus stood in the center of the room, head turning about and hand outstretched, as if he were feeling for something.

"It's been here, too," the former-tyrant muttered. "But it has been gone for several hours."

"What's been here?" Crono demanded.

Magus looked at him carefully a moment, then growled. "Earlier this morning, I felt some sort of evil presence. It's hatred was so black, it left an almost palpable mark on the surroundings. Unsurprisingly, you didn't notice it." 

Crono snorted and shook his head. "And it's been here?"

"Aye," Glenn answered, his eyes still darting. "I felt something as well, through the Masamune." He paused and frowned. "It felt oddly… familiar. My memory tells me not how."

Crono shook his head. "Whatever. Wait a second… where's Lucca?" 

"Crono!" came Nadia's voice. "You better come look at this!"

Crono dashed into the other room. Nadia was standing off to the side, but Lucca was in the middle of the floor, on her knees. She was cradling something in her arms. He moved around to look at what it was, and discovered it was a large, well-polished crescent-wrench.

"Dad… he never goes anywhere without this… " she muttered, not looking up. Crono's eyes narrowed, and he looked around the room. After a few moments, he discovered a thick yellow piece of parchment on the floor. It was folded in half, and had only one word printed on the outside. Lucca.

"Lucca," he said, handing it to her, "I think this is for you."

Lucca looked up at the letter, and took it carefully out of his hands. She quickly scanned the writing on the inside. Something close to a snarl curled on her lips. It burst into flame in her fingers, and she stood quickly. "Crono!" she snapped. "We have to go to your house."

"But—"

"NOW! You mother might be in danger!"

He nodded briskly, and the three of them ran back to the Wings of Time. It began to rise into the air almost before everybody was fully inside. The time machine shot off again. Chronos growled and fingered his axe, a look of terrible worry lining his face.

***

They touched down in Crono's front yard, and all save Magus sprinted inside. The door here was also burst open, and a note in yellow parchment lay on the table. Crono got to it before anyone else, nearly ripping it open after reading his name on the front of it. It read:

__

Be at the site of the old Cathedral as the sun sets, or her blood will be on your hands. 

Bring no soldiers.

There was no signature, and no other instruction. Crono silently handed the letter to his father. Chronos read it carefully, a vein standing out on his forehead. He began to shake, his muscles twitching and rippling on his face.

"The evil was here, but not so long ago." Magus announced coldly. "You know what this means, don't you?" Crono nodded grimly, and looked worriedly at Nadia.

"Daddy…" she whispered.

***

"Too late again!" Crono snarled, bashing a fist into the stone wall. Bodies were being dragged away as he watched, fully half of the king's personal guard dead. There was an awful stench in the air, and the sound of wounded men was clearly heard from the old Knight's quarters. The blood had still not been cleaned away.

"Indeed," Magus said flatly. "It would seem that we came close. If I'm right, they were here not twenty minutes ago."

Nadia was still crying slightly, but her tears had dried to a trickle, and an angry burn was in her eyes. Lucca looked much the same, only not a single tear had yet streaked down her face, and she was reflexively fingering something at her belt near her gun. 

The current captain, as the other had been killed, saluted Nadia smartly as he stepped forward, and then bowed on one knee.

"What is it?" Nadia snapped.

"Princess Nadia, I have news from the front!"

She nodded for him to continue. "Your Highness, another army has arrived! It's marching across the Tarpon Plain just north of the Zenen Bridge, and is headed for the castle. They easily slaughtered our scouting parties; only one of them escaped to come and warn us! The army is being destroyed!"

Crono's eyes narrowed. "A battle on two fronts…" he muttered. He turned sharply to Lucca. "How long till sunset?"

"About two hours."

He shook his head. "Not enough time. Our last battle with one of Black Heart's armies took almost three times that long. We've got to split up."

"But what if that's just what they want us to do?" Lucca said. "I say we go after our parents first, where the real enemy will be."

Glenn shook his head. "Aye, perhaps, but what choice have we? 'Tis sheer folly should we let the army be slaughtered, of which I have no doubt they will."

"Fine!" Nadia said between clenched teeth, "but I'm going to my dad!"

Lucca nodded vigorously and barked "Me too!"

"I will go to my wife as well," Chronos rumbled.

"No," Crono said flatly.

"WHAT?!" the three said together.

"I said no. Nadia, Lucca, and Chronos, you will take Epoch and help the army. Glenn, Magus and I will rescue the others."

"NO WAY!" Lucca roared. "WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO GO TO YOUR MOTHER WHEN I CAN'T GO TO MINE?!"

"Same with me!" Nadia added.

"Crono," Chronos said evenly, "there is no way I'm going someplace else when my wife is in danger. I go."

They stared at Crono a moment, but the spiky-haired man remained impassive. "No."

All three began to talk at him, Lucca shouting and haranguing, Chronos coldly superior, and Nadia pleading. He stood there and listened to it all, but not a lock on his hair stirred; not a word broke through his hardened facade. Glenn stood helplessly to one side, unsure what to do. Crono's leadership had never been questioned before. Magus only scowled.

Three entire minutes dragged by, and finally Crono had had enough. "I said NO!!" he bellowed, slamming his sheathed sword down on the floor with a booming clang. There was an uneasy silence. "If you three won't except I know what I'm doing, then I'll tell you. Glenn and Magus and I are the best fighters in this group. That is an undeniable fact. We will have the best chance." He paused, looking for objections. None came. "Whatever technology Lucca could provide could be duplicated by Magus' magic, whatever field experience Chronos has Glenn has also, and more, and with our armor, we can go long without needing Nadia's healing. Is there any disagreement?"

Lucca opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again at Crono's furious glare. "And what do the soldiers have?" He continued with barely controlled anger. "None of that. Men are dying—_EVEN AS WE STAND AND DISCUSS THIS!_—and need help that you three can give. Now, I'm asking you to believe in me, as you have every time before. I know the lives of those we hold dear are at stake, but don't the lives of the soldiers matter just as much? How would you feel if we managed to rescue our loved ones, and the entire army died?"

There was silence.

"That's what I thought. Now, go to Epoch NOW, and get there as soon as you can. We'll be back, and with the King, with Taban and his wife, and with my mother. Alright?"

The silence stretched again, until Nadia nodded. "Alright," she said very quietly. Lucca hesitated, then nodded. Finally, Chronos bowed his head.

"Good. Now get going." They began to walk away, but Nadia stopped at the door.

"Crono?" she said.

"Yes?"

"Be careful. For me."

Crono smiled for the first time in hours. "I will. I always will be, for you."

Nadia grinned slightly, and blew him a kiss before ducking through the doorway. Crono sighed and turned grimly to the two remaining. "There is some hunting to do," he told them. "and blood to be spilt."

They nodded firmly, even Magus. 

"Let's go, then," the mage said. "The time is now. The storm is upon us."

***

Black Heart gazed anxiously at her Master, seeing the slight blue glow fade around his form. The Dark Man looked up, and curled his lips upward in a parody of a smile.

"What news, Master?" she asked excitedly. 

"We are almost done, my greatest disciple," he rumbled. "The King has been secured. There is but one person left to capture, who I have sensed here for the first time. I'll leave that one up to the minions we sent; she should be easily subdued."

"Then, we go to the Cathedral?"

He nodded. "Yes. And there, _Crono_," he snarled the name as if it were a curse, "will pay at your hands. He is their greatest fighter, and I give him to you."

The Black Heart rubbed her hand over the hilt of her crystal sword, a sweet little girl smile on her face. "My Master is kind." 

***

"There they are!" Nadia shouted, pointing below them. "There's the two armies!"

Spread out beneath them lay the battlefield, weapons and armor shining in the last hours before sunset like a hundred-thousand candles in an ocean of grass. Guardian banners rippled and snapped in the roaring of the wind, and men in steel-disc and horsehide armor charged over the hills toward the uniformed soldiers. Lightning crackled out of the sky from no clouds, and fire and ice rained down among the ranks. The Royal Guardian Army was losing.

"Firing port and starboard laser cannons!" Lucca announced, and there was the sound of the anti-fusion coils heating up. Red/orange beams shot from either side of the Wings of Time, carving twin gouges in the enemy's front line. The ground collapsed under those that survived the blast, burying them in ten tons of dirt and rock.

"Repeat!" Lucca ordered, and the lasers fired again, slicing another line into their component molecules. This time, though, the wizards below fired back walls of electrical ice blocks, and Lucca jerked hard on the stick and shot up the engines. They barely missed.

"Auto pilot, activate! Epoch, you have the con!" Lucca shouted, and looked behind her at Nadia and Chronos. "We're going to have to jump in order to avoid getting Epoch destroyed!"

"From _this high?_" Chronos protested, looking at the one-hundred-foot drop below.

"Yes!" she replied, slapping something mechanical on her, Nadia's, and Chronos' shoes. Nadia looked down at it, and groaned, mouthing "Antigravity Boots" but nodded anyway. 

"What about the ship?" Nadia protested. "We can see how much damage the laser thingies are doing!"

"I don't want to lose it! And besides, Epoch has a personality of its own! It'll fire at the enemy all on its own!"

Nadia nodded in understanding, but Chronos looked dubious. "Alright," Lucca told them, "JUMP!"

Together, they leapt from the Wings of Time. Their clothes billowed around them as they fell, and just as it seemed they would slam right into the grass below, there was an enormous rush of power that slowed them, enough to blow both front lines back away from them. Without pausing, Lucca snapped her gun forward, firing off six shots at positively identified wizard targets. She felt the hair stand on the back of her neck as some of Nadia's cross-bow bolts passed her, and a chill as Chronos' new axe came into play.

Suddenly, she was barraged with magic from everywhere. It blew the electromagnetic shield the gravity "boots" made like it was nothing, and threw her to the ground, almost smoking her in her armor. She gritted her teeth and rolled to her feet again. Apparently, these magic users weren't as weak as the ones in the other army.

"Fine then," she growled, reaching for her belt. She pulled out what looked like a solid-black shotgun shell, and pressed a button on her Wondershot. It hatched open, the sun-stone energy glowing inside, and she put the shell in beside it. She cocked it back together again, and took careful aim at the group of wizards, bracing as much of herself as she could.

"TAKE THIS, BASTARDS!" she roared, and pulled the trigger. 

There was a low pulse from the gun, like it was gathering its breath, and then a surge of yellow/white light went pouring from the barrel. The light grew so bright, she had to close her eyes tightly in order not to be blinded. It lasted only a few seconds, and then faded.

She opened her eyes as slowly as she dared, and then smiled. Nothing remained of the wizards but a charred section ten meters wide and a hundred meters long, stretching into the enemy ranks. Her satisfaction was short-lived, though, because she had to dive and roll in order to avoid a volley of arrows. The ground where the arrows struck erupted in acid flames, and geysered skyward.

"Alright!" she grinned ferally, "How about some more!" She pulled out another black shell, and un-cocked her gun again. "My science eats pigmy wizards like you for breakfast!" She loaded, re-cocked, and then once more took aim.

***

"Alright. This is it."

Crono stared around them, looking at the somewhat-familiar landscape of this forest where a cathedral had once stood. The ruins of the building were not even visible anymore, obscured by a large lake, and the forest had overgrown in four-hundred years what little might have remained. Of the enemy, there was no sign.

"They are here, somewhere," Magus growled. "I can feel that evil lurking… evil I have not felt since Lavos."

"Mayhaps we are early," Glenn muttered, the Masamune unsheathed in his green-fingered grip.

"No, you're are just in time," a high voice called gaily. They whirled around to see a women standing there, seeming to have appeared from nowhere. She had thick, silky black hair and pale, delicate feature with high cheek bones. A crystal sword rested in her grip.

"YOU!" Magus and Glenn said together, and without pausing to even consider anything, they charged. They were about ten feet from her when a monstrous black shadow was suddenly in front of them. One shadowed fist shot out, nailing Magus in the face hard enough to send him sprawling backward head over heels. He hit a tree with enough force for a spider-web of cracks to wind their way around where he hit, and his head slumped. He wasn't moving.

Glenn dove backward just in time to avoid another blow, and staggered back from the sheer malevolence that permeated from this figure.

"I have given it to my disciple to fight Crono, Glenn of Guardia," the figure rumbled, "but _you _are _mine._ And when you are done, Magus will be the pray of the Dark Man."

"You shall not win, Dark Man," Glenn challenged, saluting with the Masamune.

"There is no way to stop me," he laughed.

"That's what you think," Crono spat, and drew his sword. He raised it skyward, and he concentrated. An arc of lightning struck its tip. He whipped the blade forward, and a long, oddly-straight fork of light struck and hurled the Dark Man back. But, he suddenly stopped mid-air, and landed easily on his feet. The Dark Man began to chuckle.

"Yes, you were always powerful, Crono. Even as I am now, you can shake me. But it doesn't matter. I always survive; I always triumph in the end." Then, he threw back his head and roared with cold laughter, revealing his face. Crono and Glenn gasped as one. Crono recovered first.

"You… you're dead!"

"Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated," Dalton grinned with no mirth. 

***

"Hit the dirt!" Chronos shouted, bringing the Frost Axe over his head. Lucca and Nadia glanced at him, and then complied. He didn't know what Lucca had been firing off earlier, but now it was his turn.

He roared wordlessly as he gathered the magical energy, until the axe blade began to glow a brilliant blue. Abruptly, the ground burst beneath him, and he fell backward, the magic dissipating with his loss of concentration. 

"We'll cover you!" Nadia shouted at him, and she and Lucca began firing their weapons into the enemy ranks, distracting them for a moment. Chronos once again rose to his feet and gathered the energy. He concentrated hard on the effect he wanted, as he had taught himself through all these years, and then focused on the target. 

Finally, the Frost Axe went hurdling through the air from his grasp, turning into a whirlwind of sharpened crystal ice-blades midway through the enemy ranks. _Agragre _and other nameless creatures were torn to pieces in the blast, and men were frozen solid where they stood. After a precious few seconds, the axe came spinning back, and he snatched it out of the air.

"Nice job!" Lucca shouted at him, grinning over her shoulder. He grinned wordlessly in return. A wizard in the line chose that moment to step forward. He shot a small, arc-shaped beam of light right at Lucca while she was turned. She tried to jerk away, but she wasn't fast enough. It cut her dead center. 

She flew backward, far enough to land right in front of Chronos. Her armor was dented badly, and it looked like her arms were almost sliced completely off. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming, and Chronos shouted up at Nadia. "Lucca needs healing, and NOW! I'll cover _you!_"

"I'm on it!" Nadia yelled, firing even as she ran backward. Chronos leapt ahead, his axe leading the way, and began hurling little daggers of ice even as he slashed his way through the crowd. He could hear Nadia murmuring her healing magic behind him, but he had no time to pay attention to it. 

He glanced behind him to see Nadia slump in exhaustion, and Lucca rise to her feet, giving Nadia something to drink. As soon as Nadia drank it, she, too, was on her feet again. The two rushed forward to rejoin the battle. Lucca didn't appear to be in shock at all, or even a little horrified. Chronos shook his head in disbelief. Kids these days.

***

"Allow me to change that," Crono said hotly, and leapt forward, the gleaming Rainbow Sword a mere reflection of the anger in his eyes. But, there was a blur of motion, like black smoke, and another blade met his. The Black Heart smiled at him, showing a row of perfect white teeth. "Ah, ah, ah. You are all _mine, _pretty-boy." They tensed a moment, and Crono's feet began to slide beneath him. He gritted his teeth, and the veins stood out on his arms. With a tremendous effort, he pushed her backward. Their weapons met with another steely clang, and they backed off again.

"Hmm… you're strong, pretty-boy. Much stronger than I thought a kid like you could be. But do you really know how to use that sword? We'll see."

She snapped her crystal sword forward, striking with quick, decisive cuts at his weak points. He parried and countered, sending a spinning side-slash to her right side, which she smoothly sidestepped and redirected, while simultaneously trying to kick him in the groin. He let go of his sword with one hand and grabbed the foot midair, and forced her into a spinning back-flip. She fell into a defensive crouch, and then sprang fully ten feet into the air, her sword attacking even as she sailed over Crono's head.

But Crono had faced agile opponents before. He spun the Rainbow over his head, and then concentrated long enough to send a brilliant flash of lightning out of the sky. As he expected, he could parry any air attack she directed from above him with his spin, but then something went wrong. When the lightning touched her, it seemed to suddenly wane in power, as if its source had been cut off. It flickered and disappeared as if it were nothing but moonlight.

The Black Heart laughed. "You really do have to fight _fair_ in this match. You see, I have this little immunity to magic… It comes in handy every once and a while." She nodded happily. "But you do have skill. Good. That'll keep you alive just a little bit longer."

"Oh, shut up and fight, you witch," he snapped. "I have friends to help, and I don't have time to chat with a lunatic like you."

She tisked. "How rude. Oh, well. I guess I just have to test how fast you are now, won't I?" She suddenly blurred, and Crono blinked.

"Wha—" he barely got up his sword in time as hers came from overhead. She struck three more times, so fast it was all Crono could do to block them, much less fight back. She leapt backward again, and then forward. She blurred once more, and Crono desperately dove to one side. He rolled to his feet and came into a crouch, his teeth bared. He could feel the blood beginning to drip down his arms.

Black Heart sighed. "I see you don't know how to be fast. Sad, really. I wish I had the time to teach you, so you could be a real challenge, but… oh, well. Now, I can test your endurance." She smiled brightly, as if she had just announced she was going for a pleasant little walk. "I've always wondered how much blood a great warrior had to lose before he dies."

Crono straightened painfully. This didn't look good. He had beaten Lavos because of how well he and his friends united, but also because his swordsmanship and magic worked flawlessly together. Now that magic was useless, things could get ugly, and fast.

***

"This time," Glenn announced, "thy blood shall be spilt upon the ground."

"Pretty words," the Dark Man laughed. "Have you ever considered writing bad poetry?"

"And your words are as empty and meaningless as thou art," Glenn replied. He raised the Masamune. "This blade shall purge the living matter which your soul pollutes."

Dalton laughed. "That blade? Then I shall use mine. I'm sure you'll recognize it." He reached deep into his black cloak, and pulled out a sword. It was rusty and canckered, but it had a look like it had once been great, with a long, thick handle and twin edges. The very air seemed to surge with malevolence as he drew the sword out, all bitter hatreds rising in the air like bile. They were the same feelings Glenn had gotten at Lucca's house, and Crono's. Again, the odd familiarity was apparent, but he couldn't quite identify it. Glenn staggered back slightly from it, but raised the Masamune, and the feeling ebbed away.

The Dark Man laughed again, his sanity almost visibly absent. "You mean you don't recognize it, my green friend? Well, that's just fine. You will soon." Then he whipped the weapon forward, and the two crashed together in a brilliant arc of flying sparks. Glenn's arm seemed to lose some of it's feeling as the two weapons collided. They strained a moment; Glenn pushed with all his strength, but Dalton seemed to be barely trying. The knight lurched backward again and struck, and again the swords crashed.

With a roar, Glenn leapt into the air, bringing the full force of the Masamune to bear. There was a brilliant flash and a rushing sound, like the sound of a flash flood, and both he and the Dark Man were blown back. Glenn skidded to a halt on the starchy grass, his eyes wide.

"There be no greater weapon than the Masamune!" he exclaimed. "None, not even Lavos, simply took a blow like that!"

"I whole-heartedly agree," Dalton told him. "That's why I invested considerable time and effort to get this weapon. Come, _Frog, _take a closer look. Doesn't this look familiar at all?"

The Dark Man raised his sword in salute, a sneer plastered on his in-humanly cruel features. Glenn's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something written on the hilt, and he gasped. It read _Melchior _in dull, rusty letters.

"The—the Masamune? How?" he reached his mind out to it, just like he did his own blade, but found nothing there but a terrible hatred, a mindless want to kill and destroy. Masa and Mune were not awake in that canckered blade.

"No more time for chat," Dalton said. "Time to die!"

With that, they began again, the Dark Man attacking with incredible strength and ferocity, Glenn using his decades of skill and experience; he could tell his strength was nothing compared to Dalton's. He struck forward, rotating his blade at just the right angle to deflect the other Masamune, and leave Dalton open on the left side. Dalton quickly leapt sideways and attacked instead of defending, forcing Glenn to duck suddenly and parry with the hilt. Glenn shot a powerful kick at the Dark Man's midsection, making the former sorcerer of Zeal grunt and stumble back.

Glenn once again pressed on the offensive, sending three quick side slashes and an overhand, all of which Dalton, even stumbling, easily brought his Masamune up in time to deflect. He grinned and put his other hand on the broadsword. "Let's see how you handle this!"

He began taking huge two-handed swipes, and Glenn leapt and dodged as best he could, the sheer wind of the attack nearly bowling him over. Finally, he didn't move quite fast enough, and desperately brought the Masamune up. The two mythic blades met, and Glenn felt his arms go numb with the force, and he was hurled backward. He slammed hard into a tree on one side, and he felt the sharp pain of a bone breaking. Gasping for breath, he laboriously got to his feet, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side.

"You see," the Dark Man thundered coldly, "there is no way you can win. I have grown far too strong: strong enough to defeat all of you myself. Do you know where I was sent after I was defeated in the Wings of Time? Do you? I was sent so far into the future, technology was a legend to be laughed at, and magic was alive again. With but little prices, things like promises to lower-realm entities, I slowly bought my way to unrivaled power. My visage changed, my hatred grew, and I began to lust after the only true freedom I had left. To kill.

"But my perfect new world was not to last, because even as the years passed and I gained more power, a group of young fools like yourselves fought me, and eventually managed to banish me back in time. At the cost of their lives."

He laughed. "Little did they know they had given me the perfect excuse to simply destroy all of humanity back in this time of peace, between magic and technology. One by one, all will die. And then, my disciple and I will be the only ones left, to live forever."

"Ye shall not survive the day, Dalton," Glenn growled.

"You pitiful idiot! And who's going to kill me? No one is strong enough! You are all nothing! Who, I say?"

"Me," a cold voice snapped, and a ball of pure darkness shot out of the night. Dalton whipped up the Masamune, and blocked the crackling sphere with the flat. There was a moment where he strained against the magic energy, and with superhuman effort, he hurled it upward. It exploded in the evening sky like a black supernova, spreading across the stars that were just beginning to appear.

Magus stepped forward, tightening a leather glove. A slow trail of blood ran down his forehead, but his cold eyes burned with hatred. His scythe blurred into view in his hands. "Get yourself together, you slimy reptile," he told Glenn, his eyes never leaving his target. "This man has a date with the reaper, and must be on his way."

Glenn grinned despite himself, and stepped forward, raising the Masamune. The Dark Man began to laugh. "Alright, boys, let's have a show!" he said, his face twisting in glee. "But first, how about some inspiration, hmm?"

He snapped his fingers, and the air behind him seemed to blur. After a moment, five figures appeared. Glenn recognized them; they were the king, Crono and Lucca's parents, and one other. Her lavender hair was draped in her face, and her clothes were scorched, but there was an unmistakable glow around her, holding her prisoner.

"SCHALA!" Magus roared, his face twisting in anger. Glenn's hardened grimly, and he snapped his broken arm back into place.

"Prepare for the Void!" Magus spat, and he and Glenn leapt forward. Dalton grinned, and let them come.

***

Lucca's breath was coming in and out in painful gasps, and her shoulders slumped with weariness. A slow trail of blood made its way down one leg, too small a cut to waste Nadia's energy on healing, and her face was red and flushed with effort. She was almost ready to give up.

She furiously shook her head. She fumbled at her belt, and pulled out her last Sunfire shell. This was the big one, but after that, she would be on her own with her magic. It would take hours for the Wondershot to recharge after so many firings.

She dodged bonelessly behind a rock as a fireball went rocketing by her, close enough to make her cringe at the heat. She could hear Nadia's crossbow making solid _thunk_ sounds off to her right, and Chronos was somewhere on the other side. Epoch was defending the soldiers in back. She felt so alone.

"I figure," she mumbled to herself, "that I've got two big attacks left in me. One Sunfire shot, and one Flare. Gotta use the Sunfire first, 'cuz I don't think I be awake after the Flare."

Lucca loaded the Wondershot, her hands shaking and fumbling. She finally got the shell in and snapped the gun shut. She gritted her teeth, pushed a pair of goggles over her eyes, and then leapt up, brought her gun to bear, and shot off the biggest firepower she had. The whole world seemed to go white: the ground shifted and rumbled: the air was blasted around everywhere: the screams of man and beast reached out at her, but she scorned them in her mind. They had brought this on themselves. Nobody has the right to kill for the sake of killing. Nobody has the right to take an innocent life.

Finally, the blast was over. The light faded. The sky darkened into night again. She looked carefully around her, and saw that her shot had gotten all the way to the back of the other army. In the back, right in the wake of the explosion, stood six mages, each chanting and pointing at her. Somehow, they had managed to survive.

"Alright," Lucca said angrily, the hair on her neck rising, "You want a piece of me? Fine. See an attack only equaled by Crono's Luminare, or Magus' Dark Matter. See the fire." She began to chant loudly, her fingers making intricate gestures around her. A steady red glow flared up around her, and she rose into the air. Her helmet fell off her head, and her hair flailed wildly. Small spurts of flames shot off of her body, and her eyes began to shine. 

She stopped chanting, and pointed one finger at the wizards. She shouted one word. 

"FLAAAARE!"

And the world was fire.

She slowly settled to the ground, her face tired. The Tarpon Plain seemed made of thick syrup; everything moved with placid slowness. Ash floated through the air like a black cloak, and molten rock boiled where once had been stone. Not a speck of blood, not a single hair, was left after the fire. Hundreds of empty armor suits were scattered around her. Of the mages, there was no sign.

Lucca smiled as she settled back onto the ground. She had done her best. She had fought the good fight. All that was left, was to sleep. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her body became still. Her heartbeat weakened, and her breath began to slow, become ever so slow. Her chest stopped rising, a smile on her lips.

***

Crono gasped and sagged. His clothes were soaked with blood, and his every movement felt like torture. His sword seemed incredibly heavy, and his legs were made of stone. He was losing.

And the Black Heart laughed.

He had tried every trick he knew. The Spincut, the Confuse, the Lightblade, the Slash Attack… all had failed. She was too fast, too smooth, too deadly. She didn't even have a single mark on her. She said he was no challenge at all.

And the Black Heart laughed.

Every second he felt his life blood drain away. The night seemed cold to him, oh so cold. He felt alone, and helpless, like a little child that has lost his way in the woods. He wondered how the others were fairing: he hoped they were well. That's all he had left, was hope for them. He had no hope left for himself. He knew he was going to die tonight.

And the Black Heart laughed.

He had been dead before, in another stream of time, and he had been brought back. He didn't think that he'd get that this time. No more Chrono Trigger. No wise counsel from Gaspar. No chance.

He didn't want to die. He had so much he wanted to do still; he wanted to marry the woman he loved, and spend his life with her. He wanted to be zapped or tripped or attacked by one of Lucca's inventions again. He wanted to take a long summer's nap and eat a huge breakfast. He wanted to ride the wind of adventure for forever.

But now he wouldn't, because of her. Because of her, his grave would be dug before the week was done. He found himself crying. He didn't know why: he didn't feel sad, exactly. He felt… nothing. Like his feelings were gone. But the tears came anyway, no matter what he felt.

And the Black Heart laughed.


	8. Chapter VII: The Last Tear Falls

****

Chapter VII

__

The Last Tear Falls

Though the night is dark and dreary,

your heart raw and body weary,

should you stand the night and day,

hope will light your darkened way.

The woman known as the Black Heart was disappointed. Her opponent was far beyond any she had faced before. His skill was incredible: his techniques left craters of devastation in his wake; his strength was extraordinary. He had come so close so many times to killing her outright, but in the end...

He had never even touched her.

There wasn't so much as a blemish on her pale skin; not so much as the tiniest cut in her body. True, her clothes were in ruins, but he never actually cut her skin. 

What a weakling. 

A pathetic, slow weakling that had no idea what he was up against. In the end, he was just another fighter. Nothing special, like her; just a fighter that gotten lucky when he came against that alien, Lavos, as her Master had told her. He was nothing.

She stepped forward, her crystal sword shining red in one hand, and sighed. "I guess I just have to settle with killing you," she said, shaking her head mournfully. "Really, I thought you would be much tougher."

Crono's head was bowed, and he leaned heavily on his sword. His red hair was matted with his blood, and his bandana was now almost crimson. He gave no reply.

Black Heart took another slow step forward. She brightened suddenly as she thought of something. "I suppose after you are dead, though," she continued cheerily, "I'll have the pleasure of killing all your friends, too. Those that survive my little army, that is."

Crono shifted slightly in response, but no words left his lips. "Maybe I could find that fiancee of yours... what's her name? Oh, yes. Nadia."

Crono stiffened abruptly. "No," he said hoarsely, his face pale.

Black Heart smile sweetly. "Don't worry. You won't live long enough to see it happen. But just for you, I'll make sure to make it excruciatingly painful."

"No!" Crono said louder, bringing his sword up. Black Heart laughed. Her idea had worked. At least now she would get a little more life out of this one.

"And just what can you do?" she giggled. "I don't have a scratch on me. You can't touch me. You are nothing. You've just gotten lucky before."

"NO!" Crono howled, his eyes narrowing. He began to tense up; his knuckles were white from clutching the hilt of his battered sword, and a vein stood out on his forehead. His feet spread slowly, and he began to growl, a snarl baring his teeth. He crouched deeper into his stance, and the growl growing louder and louder, until it soon became a long, wordless roar. Slowly at first, and then fast and faster, a faint, blue/white light began to gather around him, like fairy dust in the air, flaring up higher and stronger each time he renewed his shout. 

"More magic?" she laughed. "Come on. You can never win that way."

But it was not magic. Crono's eyes suddenly burned, like they were hot and cold at same time, and his body blurred and disappeared like he had been nothing more than moonbeams. The Black Heart blinked in surprise, and jerked her sword around. Their weapons met with a flash of sparks, bare inches form her nose. Then Crono struck again, and again and again and again, so fast Black Heart actually had to counter as fast as she could just to keep up. The man called Crono leapt backward again, bringing the point of his blade behind him and gripping tightly with both hands.

"SLASH ATTACK!" he bellowed, and the slicing wave came flying at the swordswoman, much faster than it had before. She desperately leapt to one side, the silvery object missing her by bare millimeters. She had just rolled to her feet when he was on her again, executing his signature double-slashing attack, and forcing her back. The Rainbow Sword came at her so fast, she had to counter two-handed, and she felt the left side of her hand go numb. She dived sideways and flipped back a full ten feet to avoid being stabbed. 

Crono paused to watch her a moment, and then tensed again. The glow intensified around him.

Black Heart gasped for breath; her eyes were wide. How could he do this? How could he move so fast? She felt a slight sting on her left arm, and put her hand to it. It came away matted in blood. She stared at her hand, shock chilly coursing through her as Crono's wordless roar began again. Her eyes slowly traveled up to her opponent, her greatest challenge. 

__

How? she thought weakly. _How can he do this after losing that much blood? _He hunched down, leveling his sword. _What gave him this power? _He spread his feet. _What _is _he?_

She looked him in the eyes. They glowed a jade-green even in the deep night, filled with anger, with determination; hot and cold at the same time. She looked in the fire and ice of those depths and felt something she had not felt since she was a little girl.

She was afraid.

She didn't want to die. She was afraid of dying. 

"NO!" the Black Heart screamed, shaking her head. "I will not be afraid of you! I will _never _be afraid! Never again! NEVER AGAIN!" 

In an instant, the Black Heart's mind flashed back to a time she had made herself forget. Back long ago, when she had been a little girl, living with a family. She saw again as her father being robbed and killed, heard her mother's last scream as her throat was cut, felt every lash of the whip as she had been sold into the slave market, heard all of her endless cries of pain, of loneliness, of fear.

She saw herself standing on the edge of a cliff side, staring down at the waves crashing into the rocks below. But she had been too terrified to make the jump. She left, crying.

The Black Heart saw the first day she had met her Master, how he had shown her that the only way to beat death was to kill it. To kill everything that would cause it. To kill with no mercy, as death had killed her family without mercy. That way, she would live forever.

She would live forever.

Screaming, she lunged ahead, her crystal sword held low and glinting in the faint whips of starlight. In the same instant, the man called Crono shot forward like a coiled spring. The outline of his body blurred in the air, and she couldn't even see his sword. Black Heart's breath caught.

Was this what it was like to face death? Was this what it was like to be… inferior?

No! She would win! The Black Heart always won, even against a thousand men! She was untouchable. _Death_ could not touch her. She was immune to death. She was its master. This punk was just that; another punk. Another fighter. Nothing more. NOTHING MORE!

Their blades rang like steel bells in the deep of that night; events seemed stretch out, and yet happen all at once. Reality seemed to lurch and shift, and there was a eerie silence. The world was quiet and still.

And then there was a sharp crack. The crystal sword shattered like so much ill-blown glass, and slowly hit the ground with a sound like the faint tinkling of chimes. She felt a brief, sharp pain. She looked down, to see a sword blade embedded in her chest. She gasped. 

"And now," Crono said, "you will never kill again." He jerked his sword out with a steely rasp. There was no blood on it. He had been too fast.

The woman known as the Black Heart stumbled back as the red liquid began to flow out of her wound. Gradually, everything began to go dim as she sank to her knees, choking for breath. She felt cold.

She lay down suddenly, and looked up at the only man who had ever beaten her. A single tear gathered in the corner of her eye, and coursed slowly down her cheek. She blinked and shook her head, her eyes never leaving him. 

"I thought..." she coughed, the metallic taste of blood coursing into her mouth. "I thought that the only way to beat death was to kill it."

Crono shook his head. "No. The only way to beat death is to live life well. That way, when you die, you have no regrets. You face the Void with without fear." He paused, taking out a sparkling red pendant and holding it up in front of him. "I know it."

Black Heart feebly shook her head, and choked as another spurt of blood came between her lips. "No... Can't die like this... I'm afraid. Help me. Help..." She distantly felt her head hit the ground, and her arms fall limp.

She did not stir again. Her world was finally the same as her heart.

Black.

***

Crono felt strangely numb, as if his limbs were made of rubber, and his wounds just didn't matter anymore. His entire body still shook with unharnesed energy, like he was a blade of grass quivering in a high wind. He felt... 

Incredible. Invincible.

He looked down at himself wonderingly, and the question kept repeating in his mind.

How? 

How had he done that? What come over him? Something about when she threatened Nadia… in that instant, he had somehow lost control of himself, and then taken it back again in a way he had never done before, not anytime when he was facing Lavos. 

Crono frowned wonderingly, trying to take it all in.

Well, he would certainly have to remember this.

Crono turned back to his fallen enemy, and felt a small shock as saw the last tear fall down the Black Heart's cheek. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her wasted life. She was so young, so beautiful. _But she was evil, _a voice told him. _No, _he replied._ She was only wrong._

Crono sighed. "Goodbye, Black Heart. I don't know what led you to do what you have done, but death is the great equalizer. Maybe you'll have some mercy in that at least."

His eyes suddenly widened, and he glanced up sharply at the sounds of fighting in the distance. With a fresh surge of determination, he sprinted toward the sound. It wasn't over yet.

***

Magus shot a fireball the size of a city block at Dalton, but the former sorcerer of Zeal divided it in half with a tight uppercut with the blackened Masamune.Glenn chose that moment to stab in at the Dark Man's feet, but the shadow leapt nimbly above him and leveled a kick at the amphibians face. Glenn took the brunt of it on the little shield he carried, which shattered like glass, and whirled around to avoid being backhanded. Magus slashed in a tight arc with his scythe, scoring a minor hit before the larger man brought his blade to bear, yanking the weapon right out of Magus' hands.

Magus and Glenn leapt back, and the scythe reappeared in the former-tyrants grasp. They stood panting with the effort, but Dalton still looked at ease and unperturbed. He smiled at them.

"Catching a breather? Take your time. Every second you waste brings us closer to midnight, and at midnight I kill everybody."

"We must make a plan," Glenn whispered hoarsely.

"What do you suggest?" Magus snapped.

"Thou hast seen the X-Strike, have you not?"

"Of course I have, you imbecile! That won't work with my type of weapon, and anything less than our best weapons would have already shattered against the Masamune! I remember how my scythe was shattered when I first faced you."

"Aye, ye black-hearted conjurer," Glenn growled, "I know all that. It must needs be that we modify it a bit. Just focus energy on the staff of thy scythe, and use it instead of the blade!"

"Are you insane as well as stupid? It would take a tremendous amount of gathered magic to make enough force for a metal handle to work like a blade! That would take time, you green-faced Baffoon!"

"Then time ye shall have, by thunder, so—"

"Are you two quite finished whispering?" Dalton laughed. "If you think a little planing is going to help you, you're wrong. And besides," his grin widened, "I'm tired of waiting." He charged forward, raising his twisted sword. 

"I shall hold him off," Glenn snapped, a sudden light flaring around his blade. "Prepare thyself, spawn of the dark world!"

The two Masamunes struck with a force like a thousand thunders had erupted in the still nighttime air, and the wind roared around beneath the star-filled sky. Glenn let out a roar of his own and struck again, sparks flying around him like rain, and he felt his body go numb. He gritted his teeth. He had to last a little longer, so Magus could have time to prepare. 

Glenn struck out at the Dark Man, whirling the Masamune forward again and again, a steeling rasp and a crack marking his every blow. Somehow, the Dark Man had begun to be driven back, taken off guard by the frog-knights sudden fury. With a leapt and shout, Glenn brought the mythic weapon down with all his strength.

There was a whirl and a crash, and Dalton flew backward, colliding into a far tree and pulling it from it's roots. Glenn sank panting to his knees, feeling his strength leaving him by the second. The Dark Man looked down at himself, surprise and anger warring each other across his face.

Dalton lifted a hand and carefully touched a cut on his cheek, as if he didn't believe it could possibly have gotten there. His face darkened into a grimace, and then a snarl, and he lifted the black Masamune into the air, and waves of shadows swirled around it.

"Now you die." he said quietly, and then leapt forward. Glenn shook his head. He didn't have the strength to lift the Masamune, or even move. There was no way out, this time. He was going to die here. His fate was sealed.

There was a blur of red and blue, outlined by a brilliant white glow, and a sound like a hundred bells being struck at once. The flash of light was so bright, Glenn vision faded into a swirl of vague shapes and shadows. He covered his eyes and squinted, gritting his teeth in pain. There was a moments pause, and he began to wonder why he wasn't dead. After a few more seconds, his vision began to clear, and the world emerged from silvery-white mists.

What he saw made him smile.

Crono cocked the Rainbow Sword over one shoulder, and spat red onto the forest floor. His body had a subtle glow that lit up the air around him, and for some strange reason he seemed to Glenn to be almost... larger than life. His clothes were dark with blood and cut to ribbons, but he stood like he was some hero out of a legend, a thousand miles tall.

"YOU!" Dalton screamed, clutching a bleeding arm. "HOW DID YOU SURVIVE? Where is... where is..."

"The Black Heart is dead," Crono said flatly. His eyes narrowed, twin orbs of glowing jade. "And so are you."

The Dark Man looked at him in shock a moment, and then through his head back and howled. The blackness around him swirled and circled and roared like it was in a high wind, and Dalton's feet slowly left the forest floor. His body rising above the forest floor, the sorcerer of Zeal howl continued as he stabbed the darkened Masamune at the sky above him, causing forks of red and black lightning to shoot across the horizon and rain down around the three of them.

Glenn managed to stagger to his feet as the earth began to shake and his vision began to blur. He could vaguely see Magus behind him, the mages magic powers still gathering unwaveringly around his scythe, a brilliant, steady purple-white glow.

Dalton's head came forward, revealing his face. It didn't look even vaguely human anymore. His skin had turned gray and scaly, and his features had been twisted into something out of a nightmare, with a blunt wide nose and canckered yellow teeth. Flecks of red flesh were mottled onto his angular chin, and his eyes were only endlessly burning black holes.

He pointed the tainted Masamune at them. 

"DIE." he told them. His voice was one no human could utter, and a wave of blackness shot at them. Glenn's eyes widened, and he managed to raise his own Masamune to defend, but he knew that it would be like holding up a matchstick to stop the tide from coming in. He glanced at Crono, hoping to see some sign of hope, but the punk-haired youth wasn't there. There was only a blur of color and light.

Glenn felt something grab him hard around the waist, and had a brief image of he and Magus flying backward and into the air.

Suddenly, everything slowed, and he felt himself set lightly onto his feet. He looked in astonishment at his rescuer. Crono smiled briefly at him and winked, that subtle glow never wavering, and turned to Magus. 

"Alright, you two," he told them quickly, "it's take him a moment to recover and cast, so there's only one way to do this. All of us, everything, at once, and right NOW!"

Crono didn't bother to wait to see their nods of agreement. He turned and brought his sword up, lightning hissing and sizzling around him and up his blade, blending with the glow that surrounded him. Glenn brought the Masamune up, and Magus readied his scythe.

As if the thought had reflect in all their mind at the same instant, they turned as one and charged, weapons aglow and war-cries trailing behind them. Glenn suddenly felt his strength return to him, at least for this charge, and he roared out a battle call as old as the Guardian line.

Suddenly, they were mere feet from the floating Dark Man, and Glenn leapt as high as he could, gripping the Masamune with both hands and swinging it fully back behind him as he soared well above the trees. Then, with a horrible sinking in his stomach, he saw the Dark Man's eyes focus balefully on his companions, point the black Masamune toward them. Glenn could only stare on as time slowed almost to a halt, the black waves spreading ever so slowly toward them.

It was to late to pull back now. They had to kill or be killed. This was it.

A earth-shattering shout broke Glenn from his reverie, and he turned wide-eyes on Crono, who had reach the black cloud first. Time resumed it's normal course as the Rainbow Sword parted the black tides like silk, and sunk hilt-deep into the Dark Man's chest.

"LUMINARE!" Crono roared, and his voice echoed endlessly in the imaginary silence in Glenn's mind. The blue-white dome of energy flared overhead, and then arced downward. The light flashed, far more brilliant than ever had the sun, and coursed through what was once Dalton. The monstrosity howled and shrieked, but it's dark eye slits narrowed, and it raised the Masamune again.

And then Magus struck. The glowing end of his scythe shredded through the black clouds, stabbing through to the Dark Man's collarbone just as the mage finished an intricate gesture, ending with one finger pointed at his foe. "Dark Matter," he said coldly, and his voice carried the same way Crono's had. A blackness that somehow makes midnight seem noon and steel blades butter appeared around the Dark Man, warring with the brilliant white of Crono's Luminare.

It was then that Glenn knew exactly what to do. He ended his leap, steeling himself with all his will to make a cut that would make the gods shutter, and the heavens split. There was more light and color as he brought his blade down, dividing the light and dark asunder, and he shouted in a voice that came from the earth itself, screaming wordlessly into swirling power that erupted around him.

***

Nadia suddenly felt a shock run through her, and her eyes rose from the blackened battlefield that was once Tarpon Plane to gaze at the horizon. She gasped.

A plum of blue-white light glowed over the hills like an early sun was rising, and a shadow Nadia had seen before blotted out the outlines of everything around the light. She felt the hairs on her neck and arms stand up as energy coursed tangibly through the air. Nadia shook her head.

"I hope they're okay," she whispered worriedly.

"Don't worry," Lucca said softly, weakly trying to rub the dirt off her glasses from where she lay on a small cot. "This is Crono we're talking about. Nothing short of a planet destroyer will take him out."

Nadia gave a yelp and turned back to her friend. "Lucca! You're awake! You're ALIVE!"

The genius smiled wanly. "Yeah, I guess I am."

In an instant, Nadia had Lucca in a fierce embrace, "I'm so glad! You weren't breathing when we found you, and your pulse was really bad, and you weren't responding to my magic, so we brought you over here for help, but we'd thought for SURE you'd--"

"Okay, okay!" Lucca winced, pushing the princess off of her. "Mind the bruises, will ya?"

Nadia drew back, abashed. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to--"

"Forget it." Lucca painfully scooted herself into an upright position, dusting herself off with one hand. "Where's Chronos?"

"He's out looking for stray monsters." Nadia frowned and added, "Against my advice."

Lucca shrugged. "He's his son's father. How are the wounded?"

"Recovering fine. There were quite a few burns and broken bones and such, but we were lucky in that area. None of them will have any permanent physical damage."

"Good," Lucca nodded, and then her eyes grew very serious. "And how many did we lose?"

There was a long pause while Nadia stared into the distance, fiddling with a lock of her strawberry-blond hair and smoothing the corners the shirt under her armor. It suddenly felt colder in the little wood and burlap shelter, the first beams of dawn that were just beginning to shine became somehow dimmer. A chill breeze rocked them with small wispy fingers.

Finally, Nadia sighed. "Over half," she whispered, and Lucca's caught her breath sharply. "Almost all of which died before we got to the battle field."

Lucca bowed her head. "Sometimes, I really hate it when Crono's right."

"Yeah... I still hope he's okay."

Together, they looked at the now-fading blue glow that etched out the trees and mountains in the distance. They started as a single white column of light suddenly flared up, shooting upward and racing across the sky. It rushed overhead, erupting with a shower of sparks like stars falling as it went. Wearied soldiers, wrapped in bandages and blankets, looked up with wonder as the earth-born star lit their sunken and pale faces. They murmured and pointed and gasped as it shot by, like children watching fireworks.

"I hope so, too," Lucca said after a while. "I hope so, too."

***

At last, the summer sun rose gracefully over the horizon, returning some measure of beauty to the once-green Tarpon Plain. Though the battlefield was blackened and dead, the rusty remains of armor that was all that remained of the invading army glittered dully, and the smell of ash was thick in the air, the hills and paddocks around the devastation glowed lushly with life. The blackness and remains and smell seemed to fade as the daystar took flight across the morning skyway, promising that there would indeed be a new day to live in.

Nadia silently watched the sunrise. Her hair was loose in the wind, flowing down nearly to her ankles, and she hummed softly as she slowly stroked it with a small ivory brush. Crono had always said he liked her hair long, so she had grown it out for him. She wanted it to be perfect when he came back.

If he came back.

Shaking her head furiously, Nadia threw the brush down and whirled to stalk over to a nearby tent, whipping the flap open with on hand.

"I'm going to look for him," she said flatly. She glared from Lucca to Chronos, daring them to disagree. Lucca opened her mouth, though better of it, and then closed it again, but Chronos wasn't going to be swayed so easily.

"Look, Nadia," he told her, obviously trying to sound reasonable. "I know you want to find him, but there still may be more creatures and assassins out there, and, well--"

"Oh, please!" Nadia snapped. "I think I can take of my self, thank-you-very-much. You'll have to think of a better reason than that."

"Well, would if Crono's still fighting?" Chronos suggested. "You would only get in his way."

"Ha! And I suppose I was 'in his way' when we I healed him over and over when we fought Lavos, then?"

Chronos slammed his fist down on a table. "All right! What if he lost?"

Nadia gasped. "What?"

"What if he lost? What if he died fighting? Do you really think that you would fare better? No! You would only get yourself killed!"

Nadia shook her head, disbelief flooding through her. "Crono wouldn't... Crono can't..."

Chronos sighed. "Every man runs out of luck some time."

Shocked, Nadia turned to Lucca. "Do you agree with this?"

Lucca sighed. "I don't know. His argument seems pretty sound, but..." She paused, and looked Nadia in the eye. "It's up to you."

Nadia nodded shortly. "Good. Then let's go."

Chronos stood, his hand stretched out to her. "But--"

"You've been gone a very long time, Chronos," Nadia said quietly. "And in that time, you've had to miss knowing your own son. Well, let me tell you something about Crono that I have learned. Crono doesn't NEED luck. He can, has, and always will win just by being who he is."

Nadia glared at him challengingly, but Chronos only looked back sadly. 

"Fine," he grunted. "Do what you wish."

Nadia snorted. "As if it would be any other way. Come on, Lucca!"

"Right!"

Together, Lucca and Nadia strode purposefully out of the tent, checking weapons and armor as they went, determination etched into their every step. Nothing was going to stop them.

"Nothing," Nadia muttered, and the wind picked up around her, tossing her unbound hair into the sparkling sunshine. She looked up into the horizon and beyond into the hills. She stopped suddenly, squinting at something only half seen.

A shadow wavered at he crest of the next hill, blurred by the morning heat and the waves of grass stretching into the distance. Slowly, the more figures joined the first at the rise, the sunlight outlining them in a brilliant halo. They paused, turning their heads as if they were talking to each other, and then turned back to the camp of the Guardian army.

Nadia looked harder as the first one to top the hill stepped forward, letting the shadow of the hill reveal first his booted feet, and then his blue trousers and belt, where rested the long silhouette of a katana. Then, the light shifted suddenly, at least lighting upon a blood-stained white bandana, and a shock of spiky red hair that glowed like fire.

Nadia thought she had never run faster in her life, and it was still not fast enough. In a time that was a breadth of a heartbeat and year, she hurled herself into her fiancé's arms, promising herself she would never let go.

And then she cried, burying her face hard into Crono's shoulder. "You came back... you came back..." she sobbed, her voice muffled by his thick shirt and armor.

Crono carefully pulled her away, grinned, and gestured to all the people behind him. "We all came back," he said, winking. "Just like I said we would."

Behind Crono, her father waved merrily, his white beard curved around an enormous smile. Glenn chuckled and soluted her with the Masamune, which rang, bell-like, in the sunshine. Taban and his wife, Lara, were already hugging Lucca, talking furiously amongst themselves, and Magus walked close behind his sister, as if afraid she might disappear if she wasn't watched closely. Crono's mother wasn't looking at any of them. Her eyes were on a man standing back by the tent, who gazed back with fear in his eyes.

Nadia looked at them, and then back at Crono. She couldn't think of a way to thank him. The words wouldn't come. There were no words that could possibly do him justice.

So, she thanked him with her lips instead.


	9. Epilogue

****

Epilogue

Time slips by. New graves are dug for brave soldiers that fought for their kingdom. Houses, demolished by the onslaught of Black Hearts army, are put back together piece by piece.

The day after the battle, Glenn was standing alone on one of the parapets of the Guardian Castle, looking out over the familiar battlements, fingering his sword hilt. Nothing could be found of the tainted Masamune when the smoke had cleared. It worried him.

What would twist the blade so? What would corrupt it? Did it have something to do with--his future?

There was a slight rustling behind Glenn, and his whirled around and had his blade half-drawn before he saw who it was.

Schala looked back at him, her face a little startled. Glenn reddened (as much as a frog could) and quickly sheathed the Masamune. "A' pardon, M'Lady," he said apologetically, bowing to her. "Old reflexes die nigh long after they are useful."

Schala smiled, and waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry over it. And you needn't pay me such respect. It has been many years since I was of royalty."

"Nay, M'Lady," Glenn replied firmly. "'Tis not for thy royalty that I pay thee respect. Thou art a lady of class, and no man worth to be called such would dare disrespect thee by calling thee anything less."

Schala blushed and turned away. "I... thank you."

There was a pause as the two turned away and watched the clouds drift by, lost in their own thoughts.

"So," Schala said at last, "about your... curse."

Glenn shook his head. "Ye needn't worry thyself, M'Lady. I have grown well accustomed to this form, and I have heard it from thy brother's own mouth that the only way I may return to my original form is should he die." Glenn sighed. "And I have forgotten revenge long ago, at the feet of the ghost of my friend."

Schala smiled again, and Glenn was briefly amazed at how stunning that smile was. He had not much occasion to see it when they first met.

"About what Janus said," she told him firmly. "Well, my brother wasn't completely correct."

Glenn blinked almost audibly. "What?"

Schala didn't answer him. Stretching her hand out toward him, she began to chant. A steady glow began to shine in the round red pendant around her neck, and the air was suddenly lit with a brilliant white light. A slow glow began to surround Glenn, which felt like it was permeating his very being, filling him with some indescribable magic.

There was a rush, and the air lit up with a thousand twinkling points that swirled around the parapet like diamonds that had been caught out of the sky.

***

A week after the Battle of Tarpon Plain, the people assembled at the blackened wasteland of the battlefield. A dozen men hauling ropes and shifting boards placed a monument in the center of the desolation. It was a twenty foot high and six foot wide column of granite, constructed by Melchior and sealed by the magic of Lucca and Schala to last out the decades. The sides bore the names of every person that had died, engraved in silver, and on top the statue of a soldier had been mounted. In one raised hand, he stood poised to hurl a double-bladed half-moon axe; a crossbow lay poised on his back; his hand fingered a gun at his belt.

There was a plaque at his feet, with the following words emblazoned in thick, bold letters:

****

Battle of Tarpon Plain

May, 1002 AD

For our friends, 

for our families,

for our peace,

have we fought

and died.

Lucca slowly stepped forward, reaching out a hand and tracing some of the names with her fingers. Crono walked up beside her, looking back and forth from the silver script to his childhood friend.

"Crono?" Lucca asked suddenly.

"Hm?" 

"We've gotta make sure that nothing like this happens ever again."

Crono blinked, then stared at her. "How?"

Lucca sighed. "I don't know. But I'll find a way to make sure. There has to be a way."

Crono nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing to say.

***

King Guardia XXXIII sighed, and sat down heavily on his throne. It was late evening by now; the day had been spent in hearing petitioners, making wedding preparations, and continuing rebuilding many of the damaged villages and homes. The last of those killed in the battle had been finally laid to rest, and the last messengers had come and gone.

"What a sad state of affairs," the king sighed. "But a month's gone since it happened... I hope the wedding will cheer the people up."

Just then, one of the wide double-doors that were the entrance to the Great Hall creaked open, and a spiky, red-haired head poked inside.

"Er... You wanted to see me?" Crono asked.

Guardia, brightening, nodded and waved his almost-son-in-law over to him. "So... how are you feeling, my boy?"

Crono blinked. "Uh... okay, I guess."

The king grinned. "Ready for tomorrow? Not getting cold feet, are you?"

"I, uh, well... um, er, I... n-no, why, um, er, I--" Crono stammered hysterically. 

Guardia laughed. "That's what I thought." Then, the levity seemed to leach itself out of the king' body, and he sighed.

"What's wrong?" Crono asked curiously.

"Oh, just the usual things of running a kingdom. People coming in and telling me that we've got to attack the Mystics, despite my proclamation that it wasn't them who invaded, messengers from Medina protesting that their citizens are being mistreated by travelers, and worst of all, there is a large militia movement stirring down in Porre." The king scowled. "They say the Kingdom of Guardia can no longer be trusted to handle attacking forces, and that a new army should take over."

Guardia XXXIII snorted, puffing out his white mustache, and then smoothed it back with a knuckle. "Codswollup, really. I know the leader of the new movement. He's the sort that would go conquering and pillaging to 'bring order to the uncivilized backwater countries' and such. He's already trying to depose the mayor there... Good man, that mayor. Very generous."

Crono nodded. "I met him, a couple years ago."

"Yes, well," the king said, brushing a hand in front of him as if to clear the air, "We'll worry about such things later." His grin returned. "Right now, we've got a celebration to have, don't we?"

Crono opened his mouth, and then closed it firmly. The king supposed it wouldn't have come out coherently anyway.

***

Wedding day.

If Crono were in charge, it would be a little ceremony held in the Great Hall of the castle. There would be a few friends and relatives, all seated in chairs while the ceremony proceeded, and they would cheer quietly as he and Nadia kissed, and then throw a minimum of rice as the two of them made their way back down the Isle and off to... wherever it was they were going.

"No, no, no!" Nadia was saying, waving here hands impatiently at a group of soldiers. "The grand lineup with be up over their, so you have to make plenty of room for people to stand along the street as we walk by. And you there! We'll need a lot more punch than that for 300 guests! Bring some more barrels in from the basement cupboard, and fill them."

It was abundantly evident that Crono was NOT in charge. 

And on so it went, despite Crono's protests--which were completely ignored--and sooner than he had hoped, yet longer than he had wished to wait, the preparations were complete. 

Lion banners flapped triumphantly in the wind, their brilliant red-gold colors reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun. The old castle's gray battlements and watchtowers gleamed dully, and men patrolled the upper walls with warning horns ready. A large group of people gathered on a small grassy knoll just beyond the clear cut field and sheer cliffs surrounding the castle. There were soldiers surrounding it, their stiff, unadorned blue shirts and breeches ruffled slightly as they worked and watched.

All around, seats were decked in blue, red, silver, and gold, shining and sparkling in the sun. Tall silver torches were driven into the ground along the red-carpeted center aisle, sparkling with polished brilliance in the sun. Many court officials were gathered, and the chancellor was busily hurrying about doing some last minute preparation. There was a general look of excitement in the faces of the spectators, as this was to be a momentous occasion that would never happen again.

Today is the day, the young girls whispered excitedly. Isn't this wonderful? They're finally getting married. The young men chuckled, and debated what refreshments would be served, and discussed their favorites. Older women gossiped, say what a lovely couple they would make, and when would they start having children, do you think? Older men nodded wisely to each other, comparing this to a royal wedding nigh on twenty years ago--and then debated what refreshments would be served, and discussed their favorites.

Some things do not change.

But as time passed, and the bride and groom made no appearance, all the talk began to echo much the same thing. When are they going to come? What's keeping them? Where's the food?

Finally, after the sun had risen over the center of the sky and the shade had become scarce, a young man with spiky red hair like none other walking down the isle. He didn't look apprehensive; he was an absolute nervous wreck. His hands were constantly running over his sky blue shirt with a thin silver lining on the cuffs, and his knees were shaking in the pants of the same color and design. He wore a simple white bandana and orange scarf, the ever present syllables that were part of what made Crono Crono. He reached the end of the aisle, and nodded silently to the priest, as if he knew him.

In the distance the bride appeared. She was all clothed in white, with a thick vale as was Guardian custom, and as proud and as any queen already on her thrown. Her every step seemed to say that for just this once, Princess Nadia, daughter and sole offspring of King Guardia XXXIII, in full royal regalia, approached. 

She was being led down the aisle by a white-bearded man who was quite obviously the king himself (judging by the crown on his head) and he seemed enormously pleased with the whole affair. Their stately pace soon carried them to the priest who stood nearby, and the bridesmaids were close on their heels. Lucca in particular looked rather uncomfortable in her dress, but she was nothing compared to Ayla, whom they had had to snatch up all the way back from 64,999,998 BC. 

The challenging parts had been getting the cave woman to wear the dress in the first place, and then get her to sit still for more than thirty seconds. It was always rather hard to force a woman who could and regularly did hurl large boulders and split trees with one fist to do something she didn't want to do. But she didn't stand long against Nadia's puppy-dog eyes.

Nevertheless, Ayla stood with the rest as the king kissed his daughter's cheek, and stepped off to one side to stand next to the chancellor. The bridesmaids also settled off to ether side--though one of them kept twitching to get down on all fours--each decked out in blue and pink silk, bouquets in hand. The bride herself stood excitedly by her future husband, evidently impatient for the ceremony to begin. Or for what would happen after it was over.

The aged priest began to speak. His smooth baritone, though hardened and craggy with age, immediately put the crowd into a dull stupor. Had they not been staring out into space, or been busy in their deep contemplation of the meaning of the universe, they might have noticed the faint shining of metal in the sunlight, in among the bride's maids. The shine seemed to grow larger, until three feet of steel seemed to emerge from nowhere. It was a sword.

Like a striking snake, the woman leaped forward, her blade whipping through the air. Crono and Nadia had half turned around at the noise, and it was far more than his instincts that saved Crono--this time around. In a blur of motion, one of his feet shot forward and clipped a long cylinder shape that rested beneath the alter, which twirled up into the air. There was a ring of metal on metal, and a single spark drifted slowly into the air.

The false bridesmaid struggled, her small, pretty face a mask devoid of emotion, both her hands gripping, white knuckled, around the narrow hilt of her blade. Crono's Rainbow Sword glittered with all the brilliance of the sun from which it had been made, cold and unmoving in his one-handed grip.

"You killed the Black Heart," the woman said dully, "and so you must die." Her voice as cool and indifferent as if she had told him the sun would set today.

Crono nodded. "I killed the Black Heart so that I could live. If there had been another way, it might have been different. But she chose her own path, just like you will choose yours."

Several soldiers and Ayla lunged forward, but Crono raised a staying hand. "Wait," he said with iron in his voice. "Not yet."

The woman stared at him a moment, something working in her eyes. And then a small spark appeared there, like the first flicker on long dead fire. Then she closed her eyes, and fell back to the ground.

Crono smiled, sheathed his sword and stuffed the scabbard into his belt, then turned back to Nadia and the priest. "I think that's finished now," he said as soldiers carried the woman away, followed closely by a still-angry Ayla--"Ayla not even get to fight in whole story!" she whined-- and one or two maids. 

"Now, where were we?" Nadia smiled, and also turned to man behind the alter. 

The priest blinked at them, and then nervously cleared his throat. Slowly, then with increasing confidence, he finished the ceremony. Crono and Nadia tuned, tearing off the vale together, and kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed. By the time they were finished, the male population was all hot and bothered--there was still food on the line, mind you--and everyone else was simply embarrassed. It made for the best topic of gossip for years, however.

Later in the day, they made a grand march through the main streets of Truce, which was fast becoming less of a village and more of a town. They occasionally spotting friends in the cheering crowd. First, they saw Crono's parents, who whistled and waved, and then his mother shouted something about Crono's cat. 

Crono waved back. He did not fail to notice that they were holding hands.

Next, they saw Melchior smiling and nodding from the walkway. He waded through the throng took Crono firmly by the hand. 

"Excellent, my boy, simply marvelous," he chuckled, pumping Crono's fist up and down. "Just wanted to congratulate you." 

"Uh, thanks," Crono smiled, and then he noticed a man trailing behind the old Guru. Melchior noticed him looking, and grinned.

"Allow me to introduce my new apprentice," the old man said cheerfully. Crono shook hands with the sun darkened, thick-set man who looked about thirty. He had a wicked look with a scarred eye and blunt face, and Crono could tell that the man had already spent much time in front of a forge. "Zappa, these are my good friends, who have saved my life--and the world, a time or two."

"A pleasure," the man grunted, but he didn't look all that excited. In fact, he looked a bit grumpy. Crono shrugged it off as nerves.

They had barely said goodbye to the two men when the crowd swept them up again. It took him a moment to realize it when a green-haired man had shook his hand, slapped him on the back, and muttered, "Good luck to you, my boy. I think I can entrust the Guardian line to you, here."

Crono blinked and looked around for the man, but he was nowhere to be found. After a few seconds, the same voice called "And don't forget to practice thy swordsmanship, lad! Ye'll be needing it again, no doubt!"

***

A day short of 400 years earlier, the Great Hall of the King of Guardia was silent as a man kneeled to his king.

"Your Majestys," he said softly, bowing low on one knee. "I have returned. Forgive my long absence. My long battle hath finally ended, and so I have returned. Sir Cyrus... is dead, these twelve years now, and I have at last avenged him, and redeemed myself."

The royal couple stared at him silently, waiting for him to continue.

"I wish to ask thee... ask you to honor this request." Slowly, the man got to his feet, his clear eyes staring into the kings. In one swift movement, he drew his mythic blade and saluted them. The weapon sang shrilly even in the flickering light of the torches in the castle, and then glowed with a light all its own. A shaft of silver shot from the tip and into the air, filling the hall with a metallic shine that flickered and played across the surprised faces of the soldiers that watched.

"As we swore over a decade ago, Cyrus and I have reclaimed the Masamune, and defeated the wizard called Magus. I now humbly request--" he lowered the blade and set the flat into his left hand, holding it out hilt first to the king, "--that I be sworn to serve you and your line while breath and blood flow through me, and even into the grave."

King Guardia the XXI stared at him a long moment. Then he looked at his queen, who gazed back at expectantly.

"I would be more than honored, lost knight," the king said, taking the sword. Its light faded as soon as it left the man's hand.

"Yes," Queen Leene said, smiling. "And after that, we can welcome you home at last, Sir Glenn of Guardia. Where you will stay."

Glenn smiled back. "Yes, your Majesty," he said solemnly. "Where I will stay."

***

Lucca was restless. Things were buzzing relentlessly around in her head, refusing to organize themselves, taunting her with answers just beyond her reach. But, whenever she grew restless, it always seemed to help her compose her thoughts to go pacing out in the wood that surrounded her house. Science was her in all and be all, but it was nice to hike a bit through the trees every once and awhile.

Lucca had been serious when she had told Crono she never wanted that sort of death and destruction to happen again. But there was a problem to the theory.

How? 

She DID have a time machine, after all, and she was almost sure she almost had the thing figured out, but...

Just then, a long, high-pitched noise brought Lucca out of her stupor. She blinked and looked around. Her curiosity up, she set off in the direction of the sound; it was... familiar somehow. Now, what WAS that? It sounded almost like... almost like... 

A baby crying. 

Lucca took off into the brush at a dead run, clearing a clump of tall weeds and rounding a corner. She looked down, and found a small bundle of white blankets.

***

"And so you just found her abandoned in the woods?" Nadia asked in surprise.

Lucca nodded, shifting a little bottle that looked as if it hadn't been used in ages awkwardly in one hand. "I'm afraid so. I don't know why anyone would try to get rid of something so beautiful."

Nadia nodded in avid agreement, then frowned. "What about the pendant?"

Lucca laughed. "It's the same pendant we always seem to be running into, isn't it? Well, that's another mystery. One for another time." She paused, and glanced down at the child in her arms. 

"Nadia?" she said finally.

"Yeah?"

"I think I want to start an orphanage. You know... for all the kids that lost parents the battle. It's the only thing I can think of to save the future for sure; to make sure nobody has to die like so many have. I have to teach the children."

Nadia gazed back at her a moment, and then positively electrified the air with happiness. "I think that's a GREAT idea, Lucca. You just tell Crono and me if you ever need help. We'll be there."

Lucca grinned. "Of course. Why should anything change now?" She laughed, jarring the baby, who lost hold of the bottle and squirted out the milk she had been trying to drink all over Lucca's blouse.

"Kid," Lucca said sternly, "You are definitely going to have to learn some manners."

"That reminds me," Nadia said, "What are you going to call her?"

Lucca shrugged. "Kid's good enough for now."

Nadia sighed. "I guess I should be thankful she's not a serial number." She looked down into the baby girl's eyes and grinned, waving one hand in front of her face. "Hi ya, Kid! How's it going?"

Kid giggled and reached a hand out toward her, grabbing a lock of blond-gold hair.


	10. Author's Notes

Author's Notes:  
  
Whew! This story was more than a year in the making, and is now FINALLY  
finished. However, it got to the point where I couldn't stand to edit   
the thing for errors, due to the risk of loosing certain faculties. So,  
that means that the last two chapters and epilogue are, er, pretty error  
stricken. BUT, I didn't reformat the entire series so that it would look  
a ton better on your computers, and I hope that worked out.  
  
You might notice a change in style as you went through--that's saying   
if you already went through and didn't just skip to these comments--and  
there is a definite reason. I'm still quite young, and I find that holding  
onto a certain style is much like holding jello with tissue paper while  
balancing on a bed of jellyfish being harrased by a fish monger.  
  
Sorry. I tend to ramble.  
  
Anyway, this is one of my very, very few serious fics. Now that it's   
finished, though, my focus will now shift to my ongoing Ranma 1/2 stories,  
and any Runroni Kenshin's that I can come up with. But, at least I finished  
SOMETHING, right?  
  
Later,  
AJ Andreason 


End file.
